Family isn't always blood, except when it is
by Emery3842
Summary: Bobby never wanted kids. He was the last person who should be teaching life lessons and taking care of the physical well-being of another human. But, sometimes life doesn't give you what you want. Sometimes it throws a teenage girl at you and laughs as you try to figure everything out. OC/Winchester friendship to start.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Okay…so, I feel like I should explain, I usually don't like OCs. I don't like reading about people who are perfect in every way, or people who wanted to write themselves into stories, etc. But…this story has been stuck in my head for a while now and while I was camping I put pen to paper and started to get it out of there. This story is going to involve Sam and Dean, so don't worry, they will make an appearance.

Let me know what you think, this is the first OC I have written and I want to make sure that she is a good character.

* * *

"Listen, I don't know what the hell you want me to do about it! I barely knew my sister. Hell, I didn't even know she had a kid!"

"Mr. Singer, I know this is sudden, but if you do not take her, then we will be forced to put her into foster care," the smarmy social worker informed him grimly.

Bobby sighed into the phone. The last thing he wanted was for the kid to be bounced around from home to home. "What's her name?" he growled out in defeat.

"Sophie," the social worker told him quickly, sensing that he was finally making the necessary headway. "She was a good student before the accident, her teachers speak very highly of her."

"And since then?" Bubby interrupted, noticing how the social worker had used the past tense.

"Like with most kids who have experienced a traumatic event, Sophie had become withdrawn. She has refused to speak to anyone since the accident and is often mentally withdrawn as well."

Using the phone to hit himself on the head, Bobby rolled his eyes as he realized he had already made his decision. "How soon will she be here?"

As Bobby shut off the phone with the knowledge that he had about a week to get all of the suspicious material cleaned-up, he realized he never bothered to ask how old she was, or why her father wasn't the one taking her.

* * *

Sophie stared out the passenger window as her social worker pulled into the Singer Salvage Yard. She didn't care where she was, so long as she could get away from his constant talking. She didn't want to talk about the weather, her new 'home', or the freaking corn they had passed to get here. She wasn't excited, nervous, or sad. She was numb.

Less than two weeks ago, she had watched as a car ran a red light after her mom had dropped her off at soccer practice and turned their car into a tin can. She couldn't run fast enough as she raced over to check on her mom…she couldn't scream loud enough as she saw the mangled mess that moments ago was her mom telling her to have a good time at practice. That was the last sound she had made. The shrinks said she would eventually come out of it, that once she had time to adjust, she would start talking again. But, how does one 'adjust' to that?

The car finally rolled to a stop outside of a house that had seen better days…a long long time ago. The social worker seemed to notice this as he continued on his never ending conversation to reassure her, "I'm sure it's plenty nice on the inside."

Ushering her up the stairs, the social worker confidently knocked on the door and looked around while they waited. Obviously they weren't going to just leave her here, there would be surprise visits over the next year to insure that Mr. Singer was a fit guardian, but at least this was better than the alternative. He was so busy looking around the salvage yard that he was surprised when the front door swung open to reveal a gruff looking man with a trucker's cap on. "Mr. Singer, I presume?"

"Yeah," he confirmed, looking behind the social worker to catch the first glimpse of his niece. Well…she was certainly older than he thought she would be, looking to be about 16. Tiny little thing too, tall and lanky, looked like she needed a cheeseburger or two. But then, with how the social worker had described the accident, he didn't think he would be too hungry either. "You must be Sophie. I'm Bobby," he said, ignoring the social worker for all intents and purposes.

Sophie glanced at him, knowing his name from the few times her mom had mentioned him, but other than the look, she remained quiet.

"If we could come in, we can get some paperwork settled and I can get out of your hair for a while."

Bobby unblocked the doorway and gestured inside. "Be glad to." Over the past week, Bobby had spent countless hours cleaning up the piles that had been accumulating since his wife's death. As far as he knew, anything that even hinted at the weird had been secreted away.

Leading them into the living room, he motioned for them to take the threadbare couch, setting down on the armchair next to it.

* * *

Three hours later, they had finally gotten rid of the social worker. He was like a damn dog with a bone, wandering around the house, checking the closets, asking questions. Finally, all the paperwork had been signed and all the questions answered…and Bobby was never happier to see a car pulling away in his life…until the silence kicked in and he realized for the first time that he was living with someone again. Someone who couldn't speak, by the look of her wouldn't eat, and even if the first two weren't true, she was a teenage girl. What the hell did he know about taking care of a teenage girl?

"So uh…" he started, feeling incredibly awkward. It didn't help that she was avoiding eye contact. "Why don't I show you up to your room?" Bobby suggested. Sophie had declined to go look around when Bobby had shown the house to the social worker earlier.

"I'll take that as a yes," Bobby mumbled when Sophie stood up. Bobby led the way up the narrow staircase, stopping at the first door on the right. "This will be your room while you are here. My room is downstairs. Across the hall in a guest bedroom; every once in a while someone will be using it. Bathroom is right down the hall. So…need anything else?"

Sophie walking into the room and set her one bag on the bed.

"Guess not," Bobby supplied. "I'll be downstairs. There will be a pot of chili on the stove if you get hungry." As Bobby retreated out of the bedroom, he couldn't help but curse at himself. '_Bobby Singer, you can barely keep your own sorry ass alive, what business do you have taking this on? You don't know the first thing about raising nobody.' _But, as he settled down to work on a translation, he knew that he had to try, he couldn't throw that girl to the wolves; she was blood, and that meant something to him.

* * *

Sophie ignored her stomach for as long as she could. Anytime she tried to eat, her mind provided her images of her mom in the car…not exactly the most appetizing of images. So, when Bobby offered her chili, she knew exactly what she would see. But still, she had to eat something. Thinking that it would be late enough that he would be asleep, Sophie quietly tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen. She was relieved to not find Bobby downstairs and went to scavenge for something to quiet her stomach.

Avoiding the pot, Sophie quickly noticed a pan of cornbread sitting on the stove, a couple of pieces cut out of it. She waited for gruesome images to pop in her head and when none arrived, she almost eagerly cut a piece out and set it on a paper towel. Finding the glasses, she turned on the water, wincing as it sputtered to life. Once her water glass was full, Sophie grabbed her cornbread and retreated back to her room before Bobby came out to investigate the noise.

What Sophie didn't know was that Bobby was well-versed in teenagers sneaking around his house at night, but it was usually teens who had far more experience at being quiet than her. So, the moment the top step had squeaked, he had been able to follow her progress through the house from his room. He briefly entertained the idea of going out and asking if she needed anything, but he knew that there was a reason she had waited until now to leave her room. He could remember after his wife died, everyone had come by to extend their condolences, and all he wanted was to be left in his pain. It was his pain, how could they possibly understand what he was going through? So, he left her alone, glad to hear that she was at least getting some food in her.

The next morning, Bobby woke up, planning on attacking some of the old junkers that were sitting outside, seeing if any of the parts were usable or sellable. Normally, he would be researching something, but he had put the word out that he was going to be unavailable for a while; he wanted to be completely there in case Sophie needed him. Wanting her to know where he was, Bobby climbed the stairs, absently noting that the railing was getting loose. Knocking on her door, Bobby didn't wait for a response he was sure he wouldn't get, but called out, "I'm gonna be out in the shop. If you need food, there's some sandwich stuff in the frig. If you need me, just holler," Bobby let out a breath of air at his mistake. "Just come and get me."

* * *

A week later and they had a system down. Bobby would throw something together for dinner, usually chili or grilled cheese. Sophie would wait until she thought he was asleep to go grab a bit to eat. Bobby would listen to her as she made her way back upstairs. In the morning, Bobby would let her know where he was gonna be. Repeat. Every once in a while, their paths would cross, their meetings leaving Bobby feeling awkward and Sophie feeling lonely. She knew that Bobby was trying his best, but she just couldn't break her silence. How was it fair that she got to walk around and breathe, when her mom was nothing more than a memory?

Then, one day their schedule changed. Bobby had noticed that the food was starting to be slim pickings. Knowing that Sophie was particular in what she ate, Bobby asked her if she wanted to come along to the store.

Sophie had surprised him when she picked up her jacket and waited for him to lead the way. Their trip to the store was entirely uneventful, much like the trip through the store. Bobby had quickly figured out that she shied away from certain foods and he could guess at why. So, he stayed away from the meat section and watched her as they wandered down the aisles, taking note when she paled or when she seemed okay with his selections. It didn't take long before they were done, but Sophie had disappeared for a second to come back, almost hesitantly carrying…feminine products. Bobby coughed nervously, "I uh…didn't think…let's go," he ended abruptly.

As they were making their way through the only open checkout lane, Bobby let out an almost inaudible groan. It was Maude. Maude was the town gossip, and she loved to talk. He knew that Sophie's presence would get her going. Sure enough, "Bobby Singer! It has been ages! I heard that you just started taking care of your niece. Tragic what happened to her mom, that poor thing!"

Any blush that had been on Sophie's face when she had put the tampons in the cart fled as she became as white as a ghost.

"Is it true that she saw her mom afterwards?" Maude asked almost excitedly.

Sophie couldn't take it; couldn't handle a complete stranger talking about her mom in such as blasé tone. So, she did the only thing she could think of. She ran. Ran straight out of the store, through the parking lot, and didn't stop.

"Damn it, Maude," Bobby growled out, abandoning his food to chase after her. "Sophie!" He scanned the parking lot. "Sophie!?"

It was nearing dark by the time Bobby found Sophie sitting on the edge the river that ran along the outside of town. The town wasn't that big, but if someone didn't want to be found, then it took a while. Slowly, Bobby approached her.

"Mind if I join ya?" Bobby asked as he lowered himself to the ground next to her, far enough away that she didn't feel threatened. He glanced out of the corner of his eye to do a quick assessment of her; her eyes were surprisingly dry, but she had curled in on herself, hugging her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them.

Bobby let out a deep breath, turning to look across the river like Sophie was. They stayed that way as the sun went down before Bobby broke the silence. "Your mom, before she moved away, loved sitting and watching sunsets." Bobby could see Sophie's eyes shift towards him and knew she was listening. "I know I'm not your first choice, I wasn't in your life growing up, but I want you to know, you aren't alone here. If you ever wanna hear some stories or when you can talk about her, I'll be around."

He paused. "Can't say that I will be any help on much else, and god forbid you wanna talk about boys."

Bobby released his own smile as Sophie's lips quirked up in the first sign of positive emotion he had seen from her. "What do ya say to some French fries from the diner down the street?" Bobby didn't want to make her return to the store right now. He could just come grab the groceries later. He felt like he was making process as Sophie nodded, stood up, and brushed her hands off.

* * *

They were moving forward. Sophie had yet to say anything, but every day she was showing a bit more life. She would answer with nods or shakes of her head, would occasionally crack a small smile, and she had even listened as Bobby took her through an old photo album.

Bobby was starting to get a little bit antsy with staying out of the hunting business, but he knew that it was only a matter of time before he would be back in. He never imagined that it would happen two months after Sophie had arrived.

It was the middle of the night when a loud knock jolted Sophie awake. She heard Bobby downstairs, so she knew that he would handle it, but it didn't stop her from being curious. Cracking open her door, she leaned out of the hallway.

"Damn it, John! I told you that I was out for right now." Bobby nearly shouted at the knocker.

"I know," she heard John reply. "But, we need a place to recoup."

"Well, find a motel," Bobby suggested. "I've got my own problems right now."

Bobby would have shut the door in John's face if it wasn't for the young voice that spoke up. "Please, Bobby! Dean's hurt."

Bobby felt his heart pause at that. John was a damn bastard, he knew that he had a soft spot for those boys and if one of them was hurt, there was no way that he would turn them out. "Get your asses inside. I'll grab the first aid kit."

Sophie continued to listen as three new voices entered the house.

"Set him down on the couch," Bobby ordered.

"Did you _clean_?" a third unknown voice asked in disbelief.

"Why don't you work on not bleeding all over my house instead of asking stupid questions?"

There was a sudden hiss of pain before Bobby asked, "What in blazes did you try to hug, you idjit?"

The voices got too quiet for Sophie to hear, so she closed her door and went back to sit on the edge of her bed. She thought about going down there to see what was happening, but Bobby had mentioned blood. She had been doing really well at not having flashbacks; she really didn't want to tempt it. So, even when footsteps bounded up the stairs, she remained firmly planted on her bed.

"Now, listen here," Bobby had addressed the three Winchesters before he shooed Sam upstairs and settled Dean on the couch. "My niece, Sophie, is living with me right now. She don't know anything about hunting and I plan on keeping it that way for now. So, keep your traps shut, watch out for anything that might slip out, and for god's sake, keep your weapons hidden."

Dean had not quite succumbed to the pain meds that he missed the girl part, "Is she hot?" he grinned, wincing as Bobby lightly cuffed him upside the head.

"You and I will have that conversation in the morning when I can be sure you'll remember it," Bobby threatened with a tight grin.

"Oddly, I hope tonight lasts forever then," Dean grumbled out as he attempted to find a comfortable position.

Bobby shook his head at the incorrigible teen. That boy was damn lucky that he was fond of him; otherwise he might find himself locked in a room for the entire time he was staying there.

* * *

**Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

Sophie twisted herself off of her bed. She had remained in bed as long as possible, but she couldn't put off getting up any longer. Doing a quick glance out of her door, Sophie hoped that she wouldn't run into anyone on her way to the bathroom. The coast clear, she made a quick dart to the bathroom…and ran smack into a body.

"Oof!" the boy huffed as they both fell backwards. "I'm sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going." He hastily apologized, pushing his shaggy bangs away from his eyes. "Are you okay?"

Sophie blinked widely at him; she hadn't been expecting to see anyone.

"Are you okay?" He asked again, looking at her worriedly.

Sophie realized that she hadn't moved, so she hastily nodded her head.

"Oh, good," an easy smile broke out on his face as he pulled himself up. "I'm Sam, you must be Sophie."

"Sammy! I'm hungry!" An impatient voice bellowed from downstairs.

Closely followed by, "Don't yell in my house!"

Sam chuckled lightly, "That was my older brother, Dean. He's annoying, but you get used to him."

"Sam!" Dean shouted again. Pause. "Ow! Bobby, I'm injured here!"

"I should go and see what he wants before Bobby kills him. It was nice to meet you."

Sophie watched as Sam turned and quickly hurried down the hall to the stairs. "I'm coming!"

"Stop yellin'!"

"Sorry! Oops," Sam exclaimed as he thundered down the stairs.

_That was certainly interesting_, Sophie thought as she got cleaned up and dressed for the day. Just as she was finishing up, a knock came at her door. Pulling it open, she was unsurprised to see Bobby there.

"So, I heard from Sam that the two of you have met. Sorry they kinda invaded the house. They stay here from time to time and I couldn't turn them out last night. Unfortunately, they will be here for a couple of weeks, but if it gets to be too much, just let me know and we can figure something else out."

Sophie nodded in understanding.

"Their dad's doin' a job a couple of towns over, but do you want to come down, get some lunch and meet Dean?"

Sophie shrugged, but grabbed her sweatshirt and followed Bobby out. She hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, preparing herself to see the blood they had talked about last night, but there was nothing out of place. Except, now there was a teenage boy propped up on the couch facing the tv.

"Hey, Sammy!" he said without looking over.

"I ain't your bitch boy. And for that matter, neither is your brother," Bobby quipped.

"Nah, but you'll do in a pinch," Dean, she assumed, joked back.

Bobby didn't hesitate to grab a pillow and toss it at his head.

"Geez, old man," Dean batted the pillow away. "I was only kidding."

"Well, I didn't find it very funny. Now, if you could stop stuffing your face for a second, this is my niece, Sophie. Sophie, this idjit is Dean."

"Hey, Sophie." Dean did a quick assessment of her. She was a brunette, not his first choice, but it would do in a pinch. She looked to be pretty tall, might reach his shoulders in shoes. He couldn't quite tell through the baggy sweatshirt, but she would probably benefit from a burger or some chili cheese fries…but then, he had eaten Bobby's cooking and while it was usually a step up from diner food, it certainly wasn't gourmet. All in all, he was A-okay with having Bobby's niece hang around for a while.

"Don't listen to anything he says," Bobby warned. "Boy was born with a silver tongue and he could talk a pauper outta his last cent."

"Okay, now you're just being mean," Dean argued.

"Not to mention, idiot was dumb enough to get himself wounded yesterday while he was working with his dad, so he is stuck on the couch for the foreseeable future. That don't mean that he gets to order everyone around, so don't let him try to convince you otherwise."

"Again, not my fault, if Sammy had just…" he trailed off as Bobby shot him a pointed look. "Whatever," he said, like he was supposed to, throwing in a fake pout, "blame everything on me."

"Anyways," Bobby entered the conversation again. "Since this lump seems to believe that if he doesn't eat every hour he's gonna wither away, I'm gonna make some lunch. You can stay here, or do whatever."

"You should stay," Dean chimed in, his smile back in place. "I could use the company."

The indecision must have been apparent on her face because Dean cheesied up his smile. "I'll even let you pick what we watch," he waved the remote control temptingly.

Bobby watched as Sophie slowly entered the room and hesitantly took the remote control from Dean, only to unmute the Saturday morning cartoons he had put on.

"Excellent, I knew I was gonna like you," Dean flirted as he got comfortable again.

Both he and Sophie turned as Bobby let out a sight warning tone, "Dean…"

Dean looked back at Bobby seriously and nodded his understanding…and then rolled his eyes and replied sarcastically, "It's just tv, Bobby. I haven't started naming our first born."

"Idjit," Bobby called out fondly as he made his way into the kitchen. As he pulled out ingredients for sandwiches, Bobby thought back to his conversation with Dean earlier that day.

"_Listen, I don't want you pulling any of your normal crap with Sophie."_

"_Normal crap?" Dean asked in confusion._

"_Don't play dumb with me boy, I wasn't born yesterday. I know you are used to gettin' a girl and then moving on a few days later. This time, there is no moving on, she's staying. So, unless you plan on never comin' by again, I don't want you to do anything stupid."_

"_Meaning you don't want me to screw-up?" Dean's tone was a bit bitter._

"_I'm not sayin' you're a screw-up, boy. I just know how you can be with girls. Sophie just lost her mom; she hasn't said a word since. The last thing she needs is you laying on the charm. Surely you can relate to her a bit?"_

_Dean swallowed hard, "I promise, I won't do anything."_

Dean did his best to focus on the cartoons and not on the quiet girl sitting across the room from him. It wasn't lust that was causing him to glance over, but concern (although if asked, he would definitely say it was lust). It was a long time ago, but he could still remember when his mom died, how hard it was to speak afterwards. He had just wanted to curl up and let the world pass him by, and he had his dad…she only had an uncle she didn't know.

A short while later, Sam joined them and shot his brother a scathing look, "Are you really making her watch this?"

Dean held up his hands, "Don't look at me, she can change it any time."

"Oh," Sam sounded almost disappointed. "Well, I guess if you want to watch it, then it's okay."

"Hang on," Dean stopped him, "Are you saying that because she wants to watch cartoons it's okay, but when _I _want to, I'm just being childish?"

"Basically," Sam sent him a cheeky grin.

"Come here so I can hit you," Dean waved him over.

"No, thanks. I think I'll sit over here with Sophie," he said as he plopped down on the other couch next to her.

For the first hour, Sophie was incredibly uncomfortable. It was strange being around people other than Bobby. She had been extremely outgoing before the accident, but now she couldn't relax. It didn't help that she wasn't able to talk to them. However, to their credit, they never brought it up. They didn't remain quiet; they would joke and tease each other, would ask her to pick sides, but didn't seem bothered when she didn't respond.

As time went on, Sophie began to relax around the two boys. They were a bit strange sometimes; they seemed to be able to communicate with just a glance; but from what she gathered from dinners around Dean's bed on the couch, they were always traveling with their dad, so that might explain their closeness. Their weirdness aside, Sophie found herself staying downstairs more often, watching tv with Dean, sitting and reading a book by Sam, just falling into a routine.

Then one morning, about two weeks after Sam and Dean had showed up, she walked into an argument between Bobby and Dean. Sam stood leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed and looked up when she reached him. "Come to see the show? Today, we have a young stubborn idiot against an even more stubborn old guy."

"Shut up, Sam," Bobby and Dean said simultaneously before turning back to one another.

Sophie smiled at Sam as he rolled his eyes.

"I feel fine and I'm bored outta my mind. I can literally feel my muscles dying," Dean complained.

"Atrophy," Sam supplied, grinning at Dean's glare.

"You'll feel fine when I say you feel fine," Bobby gruffly informed him.

"I'm getting up," Dean argued. "If I can make it to the bathroom, I'm pretty damn sure I can get up and wander around the house."

Sophie wondered what Bobby was going to do as Dean slowly swung his feet off of the couch with a slight grimace. By the way he was fidgeting, she could tell that Sam was itching to go and help, but knew this was between Bobby and Dean. Bobby waited until Dean was struggling to sit up before he reached down and helped levy him into a sitting position.

"If you rip those stitches, I'll beat your ass," Bobby told him as he helped Dean sit up.

"Oh, come on, Bobby, this is the longest I have ever had to heal since I was ten. I'm pretty sure I'm good."

Sophie frowned, that was an odd thing to say…just what did their dad do for a living?

* * *

The next day, Sophie found Dean out in the shop tinkering with an old engine.

"Hey," he greeted with a smile, accepting her slight nod as hello. "Bobby let me come out here so long as I promise to sit down," he explained as he went back to work adjusting the engine valves.

Sophie sat down and watched him work, it was actually interesting. Her knowledge of cars consisted of how to turn on the radio and which shop to take it to if it stopped working.

"Could you get me the box wrench?" Dean asked her without looking up. When he didn't hear her move, he glanced up.

'_Okay, this is a bit embarrassing_,' she thought. She had never needed to know what a box wrench was… '_Could I be any more of a girl?'_

As if guessing her thoughts, Dean's smile had a teasing edge to it as he pointed to a tool on the work bench next to her. "That's a box wrench."

Blushing, Sophie picked it up and nearly dropped it into his outstretched hands, glaring at him as he laughed.

"I get it you know," he said out of the blue as he adjusted the valves.

When Sophie looked at him questioningly, he clarified, "Why you don't talk."

Dean didn't get a chance to explain before Sophie abruptly set the bolt she was playing with down and took off for the house.

"Well, that could have gone better," Dean mumbled, turning back to the engine.

* * *

Sophie ignored the knock at her door, sending a scathing glare at it. It didn't matter who it was, she didn't want to listen. The knocker didn't seem to get the hint as he tried again. Storming over, Sophie flung the door open, fully prepared to slam it again, but was stopped by Bobby's tone.

"Now, I know you weren't about to slam that door on me."

Begrudgingly, Sophie moved aside so that he could come in.

"Thanks, so glad to be invited into a room…in my own house," Bobby said sarcastically. "Take a seat," he motioned to the bed.

Sophie stubbornly crossed her arms and remained standing.

"Wow, you can't talk and still all I get is attitude. I can't say I'm not excited to have fewer teenagers around soon. Anyways, don't sit, just listen. I talked to Dean…don't roll your eyes at me. He told me what he said and that you ran off. If you would have stayed another minute maybe you wouldn't be up here throwing a 'nobody understands me' tantrum. Cause if there's anyone who can kinda understand what you're going through it's Dean. I'm not gonna tell you why, it isn't my story to tell, but maybe next time you'll give the boy the benefit of the doubt. I know he can be an idiot, but even he's bound to get something right every once in a while."

"Just something to think about," Bobby ended as he walked out her door.

The next day, Sophie found Dean back out in the shop, looking like he hadn't left. She stood awkwardly as she waited for him to bring up her hasty retreat yesterday, but he didn't even acknowledge her until he glanced up with an eyebrow raised. "Are you gonna stand there all day or are you going to give me a hand?"

Dean explained what the different parts of the engine did, how fuel flowed through the engine, and stayed as far away from yesterday's topic as he could. Not only because Sophie had obviously not wanted to talk about it, but because he didn't really like talking about his mom. Getting the courage to do it once was hard enough; it would be a while before he took the plunge again. So, instead, they remained in the comfortable conversation of cars.

They spent a few days working passed the awkwardness that had come up between them, but finally, Dean was willing to breach the subject again. John was still out on a job, what could be taking him so long, Sophie couldn't figure out. Sam and Dean had been growing more anxious the longer he was gone.

They were alone in the house, Bobby had gone to have a poker night with some old friends…meaning that he was meeting up with some hunters to give them the information that they needed. That had become the code for when he was doing hunting things, so that Dean and Sam knew where he was. Once he had left, Sam had retreated up to his and Dean's room to read a book. And Sophie found Dean in the living room watching a football game…and drinking a beer?

Dean's head whipped towards her at the same time as he was lifting the bottle, freezing so that he simultaneously tried to look innocent as the damning evidence was in plain sight. Sending her a hopefully charming grin, "I won't tell if you won't," he compromised. He used the bottle to motion to the other spot on the couch. "I have popcorn," he tempted, knowing her love of the food.

Shaking her head at his antics, Sophie came over and allowed herself to plop on the couch. They watched the game until halftime when Dean turned towards her. "Look, about the other day in the shop…I didn't mean to upset you. It's just, I kinda understand what you're going through." Dean played with the lip of the bottle, rolling it around in his hands and steadfastly refusing to look up. "When I was a kid…there was a fire. I uh…I ran to find my dad. He could always fix anything, no matter how bad it was." Dean's voice had an awed tone to it.

"I found him right outside of Sammy's nursery. He told me to take Sam and go. Hell, he practically threw Sam at me. I couldn't figure out why my dad wasn't getting both of us out until he turned to go back into the nursery and…I saw my mom."

Dean stopped talking and took a deep breath, forcing himself to go on, "She was…there was no way to save her and I had my orders, so I ran. My dad just made it outside when an explosion tore through the house. I didn't speak for months; nothing anyone said made a difference. I didn't want their hollow words, I wanted my mom."

Dean had never told anyone this. He couldn't tell his dad because it would just hurt him. Sam, well, he couldn't understand, he was too young when mom died. But, Sophie…he knew she could relate, that she wouldn't see his words as weak.

"So yeah, I just didn't want you to think that you were the only one who has gone through this," he ended awkwardly.

Dean didn't know what reaction he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't Sophie fleeing from the room again.

"Jesus," he breathed out, "I just can't say the right things."

A phone call from Bobby checking on them had Dean climbing the stairs to let Sam know that Bobby was going to be a bit later than planned.

"Hey, Geek Boy," Dean greeted as he entered their room, "Just checking to make sure you were alive." He grinned as he found Sam passed out on his stomach, face in a book. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty," Dean tried a bit softer, getting no response. Slowly, he removed the book and replaced it with a pillow, and then he pulled the blanket up from Sam's feet and laid it over him. Shaking his head fondly, Dean shut out the light and made to go back downstairs.

…Until he heard a sound from Sophie's room that sounded like… "Sophie, are you crying in there?" Dean asked tactlessly from the other side of the door.

The sound ceased immediately, only causing Dean's need to get there to increase. "Sophie? Open the door," Dean nearly ordered.

Nothing, only a muffled sob.

"Damn it, Sophie," Dean cursed, the source of his anger due to the fact that he cause her to cry. He had never seen a tear in her eyes before, and now she was all out crying. Dean didn't know that she actually hadn't cried since the first day she found out her mom had died. "Please open the door," he tried. When she didn't answer, Dean broke the house rules and opened the door on his own. There was no lock on the door because Bobby had gotten tired of them locking each other out of rooms all the time, but the rule was that if a door was shut, and it wasn't an emergency, you didn't go in. But, Dean rationalized that this was an emergency.

"Sophie?" he questioned hesitantly as he entered the moonlit bedroom.

Sophie was curled up on her bed facing away from the door. When she heard the door open, she hastily wiped at her eyes. She tensed up as she felt the bed behind her dip down as Dean sat on the edge of it.

Dean reached out his arm to touch her on the shoulder, but retracted it awkwardly. "Sophie, are you okay?"

All he received was a sniff as Sophie rolled in on herself more.

"Look, I didn't mean to make you cry, I just thought that it might help to know that you weren't the only one who has gone through this. I…is there anything I can do?" Dean asked helplessly.

Nothing.

"Come on, give me something…" Dean nearly begged. Pushing passed his reservations, Dean reached his hand out and laid it on her shoulder. "Sophie? Please…" Dean was cut short as Sophie flew off of the bed and flung her arms around his shoulders.

"Hey, it's okay," he reassured, trying to figure out what to do with his hands until he decided to rest them on her back. However, Dean couldn't help but jerk back in surprise as he heard Sophie's voice, rough from disuse, for the first time.

"It's never going to be okay," Sophie whispered into his shirt.

Dean rubbed his hand over her back, "I know…it doesn't seem like it will get any better…but it does, in some ways."

"How?" She asked quietly, pulling back a little to look at his face.

Dean didn't want to lie to her, she didn't need that, so he tried to answer as honestly as possible. "Time. I guess. At least, that's what everyone always told me. Honestly, I think they were full of shit, time makes the pain seem farther away, it doesn't take it away. You have to choose to move on, decide that you aren't going to stop living because of it."

"What if I can't?" Sophie couldn't imagine letting go of the pain that had consumed her. Hell, it had been how long since she had said anything? If it took her that long to speak, then how long would it take her to return to normal?

"I think you already are," Dean informed her. "After all, you're sitting here talking to me aren't you? Just keep doing this and sooner or later you will find that you can move passed it."

Sophie tried for a small smile, but ended up tucked back into Dean's shoulder. She didn't know if she could follow Dean's advice, but she knew that it was time to try.

* * *

"Sophie!" Bobby hollered through the house. "It's the idjit!"

"She's comin'," he growled into the phone when he heard her footsteps thundering down the stairs. Long gone was the girl who snuck around after she thought he was asleep. In her place was a sometimes mouthy, but mostly enjoyable teenager. She went to school every day, did her homework, most of her chores…she was a pretty typical teenager. Down to and including phone calls from boys.

"Thanks, Uncle Bobby," she said as she eagerly took the phone from him. She waited until he was leaving to put the phone up to her ear. "Hey! I'm good, how are you doing?"

Half an hour later, Bobby looked up from the book he was translating in the living room as Sophie bounced in. He had gotten back into hunting so far as he worked on spells for people, translated things, and answered phones. Translating was the only thing Sophie ever saw because he convinced her that he found it relaxing. "So, how's the idjit?"

"Dean's fine," Sophie informed him, plopping down on the couch that was near his desk. "Talked to Sam for a couple of minutes as well. He's okay, says he wants to kill Dean, but what's new?"

It had been a year since Sophie had promised Dean that she would keep working on talking. It was a promise that she had been able to keep through weekly phone calls with him. They were never long, but they gave them a chance to update each other on anything new and to joke around a bit.

"Well, the boy gets that annoy quality from his father," Bobby told her, referring to the many times he had felt like strangling John.

"Judging by Sam's current mood, I would say that Dean has perfected it."

"Yeah, he is definitely working on it," Bobby conceded. "Now, instead of sitting there, why don't you go do the chores you have been avoiding?"

Sophie huffed, "It's the first week of summer, can't I get a break?"

"No," Bobby incredulously informed her. "Get your butt moving and get them done."

"Sheesh, any one ever tell you that you're a slave driver?" Sophie asked jokingly as she pulled herself off the couch and made her way to the kitchen to grab the trash. Ducking, she dodged the crumpled up piece of paper Bobby threw at her. "Hey! That's abuse!"

"I'll show you abuse," Bobby mumbled as she left the room.

* * *

**Hey everyone! Glad to see this silly product of my brain has some of you interested. If you would like me to update, some reviews would be nice motivation. It is hard to write if I think people are meh about it. Thanks a bunch!**


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for the reviews!

* * *

"It'll just be for a month or so," John made his case.

"Or so?" Bobby asked dubiously.

"It might take a little longer," John conceded, "but this is a fresh lead, I need to follow it."

"I'm not a damn babysitter," Bobby growled, but secretly, he was glad John wanted to leave the boys out of this, especially Dean. That boy might have a knack for hunting, but that didn't mean his daddy ought to be using him like a soldier in war. Last summer was proof of that.

"I know, John acknowledged, "if you can't do it, then I'll give Jim a call."

"I never said I wouldn't do it," Bobby interrupted. "I just wanted you to know I wasn't happy about it."

"Noted," John said dryly. "Is it okay if I drop them off in a week or so?"

"Good a time as any," Bobby told him. "How about this time you drop them off in one piece," he suggested...or maybe warned.

"Bye, Singer," John clicked his phone shut.

* * *

Sophie kicked the door shut with her foot. "Bobby, I'm home!" She shouted through the house, looking through the stack of mail she had brought in.

"How many times do I gotta tell you not to yell?" Bobby hollered back.

Sophie rolled her eyes at her uncle's question and followed his voice to the kitchen.

"I need you to throw the load in the washer into the dryer and then remake the beds upstairs."

"But, I was gonna go out with some friends," Sophie explained why there was no way she was going to do it.

"These friends have names?" Bobby asked, always vigilant about who Sophie was going to be with.

"Yes," she informed him. "None, of, your, and business."

"Cute," Bobby\drawled sarcastically. "Well, in that case, I'd like you to meet my friends. Do, your, damn, and chores." He smiled smugly, "Or you can kiss your summer goodbye."

Sophie dragged herself out of the seat and tossed a glare at Bobby and mumbled, "Like you have any friends."

She got as far as opening the washer when she shot back into the kitchen. "Why am I making the beds?"

"Because with your friendly disposition, it's probably the only job you're ever gonna have," Bobby quipped as he turned the page of the newspaper he was reading.

"Are we having company? Who is it?" Sophie ignored Bobby's comment.

"I don't think I should let you know that easily. After all, there is still a bathroom that needs cleaning, your room's a disaster, and I don't remember the last time you did the dishes without being told…nope, I don't think I will tell you."

"Bobby, please! I promise I'll do all of those, just as soon as you tell me!" Sophie begged.

Bobby scratched his head as he pretended to think. "I guess I could tell you. " Just then the phone rang and Bobby turned to answer it.

"Uncle Bobby!" Sophie nearly shouted in anticipation.

Bobby checked the caller id and when a number he recognized popped up, he tossed the phone to Sophie. "It's for you." Bobby made his quick exit as Sophie clicked on the phone and almost immediately began to jump up and down.

Bobby smiled as he heard her reaction. He knew having a house full of teenagers was not going to be relaxing, but it was worth it if it made Sophie happy and gave the boys a chance to be normal.

**Nu**

For some reason, John couldn't show up at his house at a decent time. This time around, it was nearly two in the morning when they got there. Bobby woke the minute Rumsfeld started barking, but Sophie, who had her headphones in, remained fast asleep.

Flinging the door open, Bobby quickly looked over the Winchesters. "All in one piece?" he asked them.

"We're fine," Dean answered for his dad. He knew that his dad sometimes rubbed people the wrong way and he really just wanted to go to sleep.

"Head on upstairs," Bobby told them with a jerk of his head towards the stairs. "Your beds are made; I'll see ya in the morning."

Sam and Dean shouldered their bags and made a beeline towards the stairs.

"I'm imagining that you are planning on staying the night," Bobby mentioned to John.

"No," John surprised him, "I want to get a few more hours in. I already told the boys to behave and gave them a number they could reach me on."

Bobby nodded knowing better than to argue with John when it came to this. "Alright then, try to stay alive and let me know how it's going."

"Will do," John promised. "Thanks again for this."

"Anytime," Bobby told him as he got back into the Impala. But really, he was wondering what the hell he was thinking when he agreed to this.

* * *

The air felt different when Sophie woke up. Like when you wake up before the sun has risen and just know that it has snowed. She could just tell that Sam and Dean had finally shown up. Sure enough, as she slowly eased the spare door open, they were lying on the beds, passed out. Sam's limbs were in awkward angles and Dean laid on his stomach with his face smashed into a pillow…both were snoring. She couldn't stop the snort of laughter that escaped which caused Dean to jerk awake and blearily lift his head off the pillow, his hair sticking up in all directions. She was now left with two choices, run away or…

"Ooph!" Dean let out a breath of air as Sophie took a running leap onto his bed, elbowing him in the stomach.

"Wake up, Sleepyhead," she urged as she got onto her hands and knees and began to bounce the bed.

"Sophie?" Dean half-questioned to make sure that was really who was on his bed; although since the person was being incredibly obnoxious, he didn't really need to ask.

"Yep," she confirmed brightly as she yanked the pillow from underneath his head and chucked it at Sam, laughing as he shot straight up in bed.

"Whass goin' on?" Sam frantically blurted out.

"Time for you to wake up!" She informed him with a smile, which changed to a mock pout when they exchanged looks and then promptly closed their eyes and laid back down. "Come on! I've been going insane here!"

"Hey, Sammy?" Dean spoke up, staring at the ceiling.

"Yeah, Dean," Sam replied from a similar position.

"Why do I feel like we are never going to get a moment of piece this summer?"

"I don't know, Dean. But I think you are right."

"Go jump on Sammy's bed," Dean whined, throwing his arm over his head as Sophie continued to bounce.

"She's not gonna leave you alone until those feet are on the ground," Bobby informed him from the doorway, having heard the shouting. "She's been impossible since she found out that you two were coming."

Dean sighed as he flung the sheets off of him. "I'm getting up, I'm getting up." Seeing an opportunity for some payback, Dean placed his hand on Sophie's shoulder and gave it a shove. Slightly unbalanced due to the movement of the bed, there was no way for her to catch herself and she fell to the floor in a flailing of limbs. Laughing as she pulled herself into a sitting position, Dean finally put his feet on the ground. "I'm feeling oddly better about being awake," Dean said in satisfaction, easily dodging a playfully thrown kick from Sophie. Noticing that Sammy was still in his protective cocoon of blankets, Dean looked down at Sophie, "You know, I think Sammy needs some help getting out of bed as well."

Bobby chuckled as he went downstairs to make breakfast and heard Sammy's cry of, "get off of me you idiots!"

Tossing the eggs and toast onto the table, Bobby hollered up. "Food's done!"

He worried about the stability of the stairs as three pairs of feet thundered down them and ran into the kitchen. Nibbling on his toast, Bobby took the three of them in: Dean sneaking pieces of egg off of Sam's plate, Sam and Sophie talking about the latest books they were reading, Sophie throwing Dean a knowing look while Sam talked…all in all, just acting like the teenagers they were.

For Sophie, it was going back to what she was used to growing up; her youth had not been tainted by monsters and ghosts. It wasn't all sunshine and puppies, her mom's accident saw to that, but with the help of the two idjits sitting next to her, she was moving on the best she could.

Moving on, that was a funny thing to attribute to Sam and Dean given that the whole reason their lives were filled with shotguns and salt was because of an inability to move on. Not that he blamed John….he was a hunter too….but he didn't have kids, back then at least. He didn't have anything to keep him sane but revenge. He had known these boys since Dean was five and John had shown up wanting to know more about hunting. Watched as John put them through training, as Dean lost that innocence in his eyes, as he fought to keep it in Sam's…seeing them become the teenagers they were, meant a lot…until Dean threw a piece of Sam's egg at Sam.

"Dean!" Sam grumbled as he tried to finger comb through his hair to get the egg out, preparing retaliation.

"Alright! Before you lot destroy my house, I want you out. Go outside, do something, don't get arrested," he gave them a pointed look.

It didn't take any more encouragement before the three of them were down at the river with the rest of the town, trying to beat the summer heat.

Sam and Dean immediately stripped down to their swim trunks and looked pointedly at Sophie's tank top and denim shorts.

"Aren't you coming in?" Sam asked her, already eyeing the frayed looking rope swing that someone had tied up.

Shaking her head, Sophie fidgeted uncomfortably, "You guys go ahead, I'll hop in later."

It wasn't that Sophie didn't want to swim, she just didn't particularly like being in a swimming suit. She just felt naked when she was wearing one and she didn't want to feel that way around a bunch of people.

Dean looked at her curiously, but then shoved Sam in the arm, "Race ya," he challenged, initiating a shoving war as they ran for the water.

Sophie watched in amusement as Dean dunked Sam under the water and Sam returned the favor.

"Who was _that_?" Alex, one of Sophie's friends from school asked as she came up next to Sophie. As Sophie glanced at her, she couldn't help but feel a bit jealous that Alex seemed to have no concerns about walking around in a bikini. And why would she? She was all legs and blond hair and perfectly proportioned.

"Who was who?" Sophie asked, knowing what Alex wanted to know, but wanting clarification.

"Those boys you were with," Alex said with a one-sided smirk. "The taller one, you can't deny that boy isn't the choicest thing this town has seen in a long time."

Sophie bit the inside of her cheek as a wave of possessiveness tore through her. She had no reason to feel that way, she didn't have a claim on Sam and Dean…it was just…they were her friends, and she really didn't want to share them.

Especially since she wasn't blind, she knew that Dean had a type, and Alex fit it to a T. She didn't want to lose him for the rest of the summer. But, Alex was waiting for an answer.

"Sam and Dean. They're the sons of Uncle Bobby's friend. They are staying with us for a while."

"You have _that_ living in your house?" Alex asked incredulously. Then, "Oh my god! Are they staying in the room across from you?!"

At Sophie's nod, Alex nearly jumped up and down. "You have to invite me over!"

Sophie and Alex had been so busy talking…well, Alex was talking, Sophie was contemplating how she could avoid having Alex over…that they didn't notice that the object of Alex's attentions had gotten out of the water, until a shadow fell over her and water started dripping on her shoulder. Shielding her eyes with her hand, Sophie glanced up to see Dean grinning and she knew he had heard a part of the conversation. "Dean, this is Alex," she introduced reluctantly, "Alex, this is Dean."

"Hi, Alex," Dean greeted and Sophie had to force herself to not roll her eyes as he laid on the charm. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," Alex drawled.

Sophie shifted, redirecting Dean's attention back to her. "I'm sorry, Alex, but I have a best friend to throw in the water."

Before Sophie could register what Dean said, he had bent down and scooped her up. "Dean! Put me down!" Sophie shouted out as he carried her closer to the water.

Her only response was laughter and he held her tighter as she squirmed. "Hold your breath!" He suggested as his muscles tightened and he threw her forward. The last image she has as she hit the water was of Sam and Dean laughing.

Sophie held her breath underneath the water. She was a competent swimmer…but Sam and Dean didn't know that.

"Sophie?" Dean called out quietly, exchanging a look with Sam. "Sophie!?" He tried, more worry seeping into his tone. When he didn't receive a response, he stepped a little farther into the water.

Sophie could hear the muffled calls from underneath the surface and part of her felt bad for making him worry…the other part reminded her that he threw her into the water in the first place. She was just about to run out of air when she heard Dean dive into the water. Seconds later his arms wrapped around her and pulled her to the surface.

"Sophie? Are you okay?" Dean frantically asked as he pushed her hair away from her face.

After taking a much needed gasp of air, a smile broke across her face. "I'm perfect."

"You were faking!?" Dean asked in anger.

"I was just getting you back for throwing me in the water," she explained, not getting the problem.

Dean's expressions became closed off as he shoved her away from him and made his way back to shore. "I'm heading back to Bobby's," he told Sam as he stormed passed.

Sophie followed more slowly until she reached Sam who shook his head at her.

"It was just a joke," she defended as she squeezed some of the water out of her clothes. "I don't know what he's all butt hurt about."

Sam cocked an eyebrow at her, "He was really worried about you, Sophie. He thought that he might of…"

Sophie's heart clenched as she realized what she had inadvertently done.

"We've all lost too many people," Sam finished off. "You're the first friend I think Dean's ever had. He just…He may be overreacting but…" Sam trailed.

Looking up, Sophie searched the area around the river for Dean, but couldn't find him. "I think I'm ready to go home," Sophie revealed quietly.

* * *

"Where's Dean?" Bobby asked Sophie and Sam when he got home, surprised to see the two of them hanging out inside.

When Sam shot a look at Sophie and she avoided his eye contact, Bobby refocused his question to her, "Sophie?"

Sophie shrugged, still avoiding his eyes, "I'm not his keeper, how should I know?"

"He'll be back later," Sam supplied tightly, "he's just blowing off some steam."

"And why would he need to do that?" Bobby asked them.

Sophie once again felt sick to her stomach, but she wasn't comfortable with the guilty feeling, so she lashed out in anger. "How am I supposed to know!? God, if everyone wasn't so damn sensitive about everything then there wouldn't be a problem!"

Sophie then fled the room, stormed upstairs and slammed her door and sunk down to the floor.

"So, judging by that, I'm gonna guess that something happened between the two of them?" Bobby surmised.

Sam sent him a droll look, "Ya think?"

"Don't get smart with me, boy," groused Bobby. "You wanna tell me what it's about?"

Sam held up his hands, "Oh no, I'm not getting in the middle of this."

"Fat lot of good you are," Bobby grumbled.

* * *

It was dark by the time Dean returned to the house. He had gotten used to his dad not caring if he was out late, so he was surprised to see Bobby sitting up for him.

"You wanna tell me where the hell you've been?" Bobby asked from his spot at his desk.

"Not really," Dean responded, his tone defiant.

"You leave here before noon, Sam and Sophie get back at two…and now it's two in the _freakin'_ morning! You'd better have a damn good reason why you're so late."

"I'm here, isn't that enough?" Dean asked defensively.

"No, that's not _enough_! The next time you are out this late without letting me know, you can spend the rest of your time here cataloging my books. Understand?"

Dean's face tightened, he really didn't like people giving him orders, liked it even less when it wasn't his dad. "You can't tell me what to do, Bobby. I'm not your kid and I ain't your prisoner."

"No, but I care about you!" Bobby yelled. "You don't answer your phone; you don't tell anyone where you're goin'? I get it, Dean. You're almost a legal adult, you've been practicin' to be one your whole life, but damn it, boy! Let me worry about you!"

When Dean looked properly contrite and just a touch uncomfortable, Bobby jerked his head to the stairs. "Go get some sleep."

* * *

The next morning was a balmy artic chill sitting around the table. No one wanted to break through the tension between Sophie and Dean, Dean was steadfastly ignoring Bobby's gaze, and Sam was doing his best to stay out of it all.

Finally, Dean couldn't take it anymore, picked up his plate, dropped it in the sink, and went outside.

Sophie succeeded in hanging around inside for a few hours. She had started by reading some of her book, then she watched a bit of tv, then she idly picked at the paint that was peeling off of the living room walls, then she let her head hang upside down off of the couch…and then she couldn't take it anymore and went outside, determined to mend things.

That determination, the one that had been burning in her belly upon exiting the house? Yeah, that fled the moment Dean looked up, noticed her, and then went right back to working on the most recent junker.

"Hey," she greeted timidly, crossing her arms across her chest self-consciously.

Dean kept tinkering.

"I uh…just wanted..." Sophie mumbled. "Could you look at me?" She requested.

Dean continued to tighten a bolt, almost as if he was going to refuse, then straightened up, leaned against the front of the car, and crossed his arms, his expression indicating that he currently considered her an unwanted distraction.

"Thanks," she told him earnestly. Now that she had his attention, she didn't know what to do with it. She was horrible at apologies. "I just wanted to say, what happened down at the river, I didn't mean to…I didn't think…look, I'm sorry, alright?"

Dean's facial expression didn't change as he wiped the grease off of his hands with an even greasier rag. When she was done, he simply asked, "Is that all you wanted, cause I'm a bit busy."

Sophie bit her lip, she had never experienced this side of Dean, usually he was all jokes and smiles. "Um…yeah, that's all."

Before she turned away to go back into the house, Dean had his head stuck underneath the hood. Feeling dismissed, Sophie returned to the house and ignored the questioning glances of Bobby and Sam.

* * *

It was getting dark by the time Dean gave up on the old car for the night. The moment he entered the house, he could feel the eyes of two of its occupants on him.

"What?" He questioned irritably.

"Nothing," Bobby drawled out as Sam gave a slight shake of his head and turned back to his book.

"Good," Dean bit out before making the climb up the stairs.

Dean paused at the door to Sophie's room on his way to get ready for bed and again on his way back to his room, and again on his way to grab the sweatshirt he had left in there, and then his belt, and then he had to admit to himself that he was stalling.

Stopping at her door, Dean took a deep breath before knocking and letting himself in.

Sophie looked up from her position on her stomach. She expected it to be Bobby, so she was surprised to see Dean peeking his head around her door.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course," Sophie told him immediately, sitting up and closing the notebook she had been writing in.

Dean stepped in and shut the door behind him, debating whether it was best to keep standing or to move into the room. The decision was made when Sophie scooted over and gestured to the spot next to her questioningly. Gingerly lowering himself onto the bed, Dean tried to do his best to keep it from squeaking.

"So," both of them began at the same time, Sophie blushing as a result, and Dean giving an awkward smile.

"Listen Soph," Dean took the first step. "I shouldn't have been an ass earlier. I just didn't know why the thing at the river was such a big deal."

"Did you figure it out?" She asked softly, not wanting to bring the standoffish Dean back.

Dean threw her a half-smile. "Only after my younger brother came outside earlier and set me straight."

Sophie joined in his smile, knowing that sometimes, Sam was more aware than all of them combined. "Yeah, and what did he have to say?"

Dean scoffed, "Apparently, I don't have any friends."

"Oh," Sophie responded lamely, an unknown sinking feeling in her heart.

Dean let out a little laugh and sent her a small smile. "Any except for you, you goof."

He paused before he continued, "With the way we live," Dean explained, meaning both hunting and moving, "I never take the time to get to know anyone, especially not girls," he said, blushing slightly in embarrassment. "So, I guess that means you're kinda my best friend…and when you didn't come up, I imagined that you had drowned and that I would never get to see you again, or talk to you after a long day stuck in a car with dad and Sam…and I flipped a bit. And I'm…"

Sophie bumped his shoulder when he seemed to freeze. "I'm sorry too."

Dean bumped her back again, but this time let his shoulder remain against hers.

"For what it's worth," she nearly whispered, "you're kinda my best friend too."

Dean looked down at her, "Am I going to regret claiming you?"

"Claiming me? What am I? A lost and found item?" Sophie asked in mocked offense.

"If I say yes, will you hit me?" Dean questioned playfully.

"Probably."

* * *

**Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews and the interest! This is a short one, but since I have been on vacation, I felt I needed to post something. Let me know what you guys think!**

* * *

"Hey! That's my popcorn, get your own," Sam exclaimed, defending his bowl from Sophie's questing hand.

"You're the one who forgot the licorice," Sophie argued, reaching her hand back in as Sam pulled away.

"Yeah, that's because licorice is disgusting," Sam defended. "I _told_ you I wasn't going to buy any."

"Well, the least you could do is give me some popcorn to make up for your error in judgment."

"Screw that!" Sam replied indignantly. "Go pop your own."

Sophie was hanging off her spot on the couch trying to reach the bowl Sam had stretched out behind him when Dean walked in.

"Am I missing something?"

Whipping around to see him, Sophie lost her balance from her precarious perch and fell onto Sam, who let go of the popcorn, causing it to rain down on them and the room.

"Look what you did!" Sophie accused Sam as she brushed the buttery popcorn off of her tanktop and pj shorts. "Now we have_ no_ popcorn."

"_We_ didn't have popcorn in the first place, I did. You are just a lousy thief."

"Okay children, you can make more popcorn," Dean reasoned with a smile.

"You're awfully dressed up for movie night," Sam observed when he turned to tell Dean where he could put his advice.

"That, kids, is because I have a date tonight, so I'll be giving movie night a miss," Dean informed with a smirk.

"So, we rented this horror movie, which is apparently your favorite, because you have been whining about it for three weeks and now you aren't going to be here?" Sam asked.

Sophie only asked, "With who?"

"Your friend Alex and we can always watch it again tomorrow," Dean answered both of them.

"Dean…" they said simultaneously.

"What!?"

"She's my friend, Dean." Sophie answered. "I know she can come on a bit strong, but just remember that you will be here for at least another month and that I have to deal with her afterwards," Sophie warned, ignoring that possessive feeling again.

"It's just a date," Dean informed her. "I'm not bringing her home to meet the parents."

Sophie and Sam exchanged skeptical glances.

"Hey! I can manage one date without doing damage," Dean defended, scoffing when they didn't seem to believe him. "Whatever, I'm going somewhere I'm actually wanted."

"The North Pole?" Dean heard Sam's murmured response as he walked out the door and smiled when the laughter began.

* * *

It took Sam and Sophie half an hour to get more popcorn popped; they burnt the first bag, argued about the use of the popcorn setting on the second, and finally managed to produce the perfect pop on the third. Then, they had struggled to get the lighting in the room right. Sam wanted all the lights out, said it was the only way to watch a horror movie. Sophie wanted them all on because horror movies terrified her…there was a reason she had avoided Dean's pick for so long. Finally, they rock, paper, scissored for it…

…Dean was right, Sam was good at it.

An hour after they got up to pop the new popcorn, they were finally settled and had pressed play Sophie was fine through the first fifteen minutes of it, and then, par for course with horror movies, people started to get killed off. It wasn't the blood and gore really, she had because accustomed to it again and it didn't give her horrible flashbacks, but she still didn't enjoy it. With each death, she sunk further into the couch, hugging the pillow to her chest. Just as the blond cheerleader was sneaking through the house, the unknown murderer popped up and stabbed her…at the same time as someone grabbed Sophie's shoulder.

"Ahh!" Sophie screamed, shooting up from the couch, knocking the popcorn over in her haste. Blindly, she struck out at whatever had grabbed her and didn't stop until she recognized the voice.

"Shit, Sophie, it's me. Damn it, it's me!" Dean called out as he blocked against the wild swings.

When the fists stopped flying, Dean lowered his arms, only to be struck upside the head. "Ow! That hurt!"

"That wasn't funny, asshole!" Sophie shouted at him, her heart still trying to force its way out of her chest.

Dean exchanged a look with Sam…and they both started laughing.

"Ugh! I hate both of you right now," Sophie growled out as she started to pick her way over the popcorn to go to her room.

"Wait, Soph," Dean gasped out between laughs. "Stay and finish the movie."

"No," she refused stubbornly. "You're both jerks."

"Listen, I'm sorry," Dean said, blocking her path and holding his hands up. "I didn't know you were afraid of horror movies."

"I'm not afraid," she denied. "I just didn't think you would be home so soon."

"Well, in that case, sit back down and finish the movie, there is still over an hour left," Dean said slyly, avoiding her observation about when he got home.

"No," Sophie denied, "I should really go to bed."

"Please stay? If it's just Sam and me out here, then we will destroy the place…although it looks like the two of you got a good start on that," Dean didn't try to avoid the slap to his arm.

"Fine," Sophie agreed reluctantly. "But no more sneaking up on me!"

"Scout's honor," Dean promised.

"You were never a boy scout," Sam called from his position on the floor.

"It's the thought that counts," Dean argued as he plopped down on the couch next to Sophie. "Press play, Sammy."

Ten minutes later and Dean knew for sure that Sophie was lying about not being afraid. If the jumping didn't give her away, then the cowering behind a pillow did. As they watched the young jock go out to investigate the movement he saw in the woods, Dean knew the boy was about to be hacked into bits, so he leaned over to Sophie, "I wouldn't watch if I were you."

"I'm fine," Sophie bit out, not wanting to appear silly.

"Really, it's pretty b…" a scream came from the tv and Sophie nearly jumped off of the couch. After that, she found herself slowly inching towards Dean, finding her end of the couch far too dark and isolated for survival…let alone comfort.

The corner of Dean's mouth twitched upwards as Sophie put her body next to his. "Thought you weren't afraid," he whispered teasingly.

"I'm not," Sophie countered, sticking to her claim. "I'm just…cold." Actually, she was a bit cold, South Dakota nights were chilly even in the summer.

Dean didn't bother to hide his smile as he pulled a blanket off of the back of the couch and held it out to her. "Now you can go back over there."

A bark of laughter escaped as she glanced wearily at the end of the couch.

"Shh…" Sam reprimanded from the floor.

Shaking out the blanket, Dean threw it over the both of them and settled his arm over her shoulders. "I'm a bit cold as well," he explained his actions.

Sophie tucked her feet under the blanket and shifted to get comfortable. It wasn't long before her head was hidden against Dean's chest and could feel the vibrations coming from his laughter against her cheek.

"This isn't funny," her muffled complaint reached him, only causing him to chuckle more. Eventually, she just stopped looking up all together.

* * *

"What in blazes?" Bobby mumbled as he followed the popcorn trail into the living room. The tape had rewound itself and was playing over again, but none of the room's occupants were aware of it. Sam lay on the floor, a small puddle of drool forming on his arm that he was using as a pillow. Sophie and Dean lay on the couch, Sophie's feet curled underneath her, Dean's outstretched and propped up by the coffee table. It was their upper halves that were interesting. Dean's back was reclined against the arm of the couch, Sophie was curled up between him and the back rest, her head lay on his chest. One of Dean's arms had curled around her waist and was holding her firmly against him; the other hand rested lightly on her hip.

Bobby shook his head, he believed that they were just friends…he just didn't know if that was all they were gonna remain. Bobby decided that it was obviously innocent, seeing as Sam was laying on the floor less than five feet away from them, so he turned to leave…kicking the upturned popcorn bowl with a clang.

Sophie and Sam shifted when they heard it, but Dean, ever the hunter, snapped his eyes open and immediately sought out the threat in the darkened room. When his eyes fell on Bobby, he relaxed, until he noticed that he had relaxed with Sophie in his arms. He hesitated between ripping his arms away from her and waking her up, and staying where he was and just accepting the beat down he was going to get later.

Bobby made his decision for him when he stepped closer and motioned for Dean to stay there.

"Bobby, I didn't mean…" Dean tried to explain in a whisper.

"Relax boy, I'm not gonna chop your arms off," Bobby told him just as quietly, tugging the blanket up a little higher on them. "Go back to sleep, we'll talk in the morning."

Bobby was just about out of the room when he turned around and warned, "but, if I wake up and notice that anything is going on, then I _will_ chop _something_ off."

Dean quickly nodded his understanding and fought back the churning feeling in his stomach. However, despite the looming talk, it was oddly easy to relax again and let sleep claim him.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: First, a huge thanks to anyone who reviewed, favorited, or put this story on their alerts, it is nice to know that people are reading it. Second, sorry for the delay in getting this out. My computer had to be sent in and it was not repairable, so they sent me a new one (yay new laptops, boo losing documents).**

**However, it was probably for the best because I had a chapter written out and I hated it and couldn't figure out where the story was going from there, but I couldn't get my mind away from the one I had already written. So, a solution was found by having it taken away and it forced me to come up with something new and now I actually have a plan for where this one is heading!**

**Enough yammering, on to the story. Please let me know what you guys think!**

* * *

Beams of sunlight shot through the living room, causing stray dust particles to dance in the air. Sophie scrunched up her nose and flopped over to her other side, unwilling to let the sun pull her into consciousness. However, the room was just too bright to be ignored and her eyes finally popped open.

It looked like a junk food bomb had gone off in the living room; there was popcorn on almost every surface, candy wrappers, and soda cans. There was even a Sam shaped outline carved into the mess.

A little bleary from the sugar high, turned terror, turned passed out, it took Sophie a moment to remember what had happened the previous night. Dean had come home awfully early from his date, he scared her, she ended up cowering…she meant staying warm…near him, and then it was blank. Since she woke up on the couch, it was obvious that she had fallen asleep, but the details eluded her.

Standing up and stretching, Sophie followed the sounds of quiet, but strained voices into the kitchen.

"I'm just sayin'," Bobby forced out. "You don't have the best track record."

"Wow, Bobby, thanks for the glowing character recommendation," Dean replied, bitterness seeping into his comment. "But, it wasn't like that, I promise."

"I'm not blind, boy," Bobby argued, not seeing the shadow that Sophie was casting as she remained on the other side of the kitchen wall.

"Well, you don't have to…" Dean paused as he caught the new shadow. Jerking his head towards it to tell Bobby they were being listened to, Dean called out, "Welcome back to the land of the living, Sunshine."

Sophie huffed in mock annoyance at being found out and slid around the wall. "Good morning."

"Afternoon," Bobby corrected, pointing to the clock hanging on the wall. "Mornin's come and gone."

"Oh," Sophie replied lamely when she saw that it was pushing one in the afternoon. It had been a while since she had slept in that late. Normally, she liked to be up a bit earlier, made her day feel more complete, but there was nothing she could do about it now. "You guys eat anything yet?"

"Nope," Dean said, hoping that he could score a sandwich out of her. Bobby just shook his head in reply to the unasked question and watched as Sophie pulled sandwich stuff out of the fridge.

"Where's Sam?" Sophie asked, motioning for Dean to grab the plates.

"He went on a run," Dean informed her, his voice laced with disgust for his brother's choice of activities. "As if it wasn't hot enough, he is going to go out there and get even more sweaty than usual. I'm telling you, we should get that kid checked out, the amount he sweats is unnatural."

Dean gestured impatiently at the bread that Sophie was holding in her hand, both ignoring Bobby's sigh as Sophie hurled it at him, causing Dean to squish the sides of the bread when he caught it. What did they care, food was food.

Bobby watched as they worked together to make lunch. He fought the urge to smile as Sophie used the sleeve of Dean's shirt to wipe a bit of mustard off of her hand, and as Dean continued to pile ham on Sophie's sandwich when she wasn't looking, making it twice as large as she wanted.

His conversation with Dean had started when Dean woke up earlier than he wanted to, drawn awake by the smell of coffee wafting out of the kitchen. Following his nose, Dean was unsurprised to see Bobby nursing his second cup, pouring over the newspaper.

"_Old habits?" Dean asked, getting his own cup and plopping down into the chair across from the older man._

"_I may not be out there right now, but that don't mean I should be sitting on my ass. If something comes up, I can send it out to someone," Bobby flipped the page and then folded the paper in half. "Should I let you finish that or get right to it?"_

_Dean sighed and looked into his cup like he was reading tea leaves, "Now's as good a time as any. Hit me with it."_

"_Okay," Bobby said. He had thought through this conversation all night and morning, but he had yet to figure out how he was going to go at it. It definitely wasn't a conversation he wanted to have. "Look, you have to know I'm fond of ya boy, but…"_

_Bobby may be found of him, but he certainly wasn't pulling any punches. By the time Sam had stumbled into the kitchen wearing workout clothes, Dean was ready to snap back, to insist that nothing was happening, nothing would happen, and that Bobby was just a crazy old man. But, he kept his mouth shut. If he responded like that, it would just start a whole different conversation. It was just easier to nod at the right times._

_Sam's entrance led the conversation into safer territory— hunting, cars, normal things. The atmosphere continued to be light for half an hour after Sam left to go for a run. And then they were back on the Sophie topic. Dean figured that getting up to take care of the increasing growling that his stomach was doing wouldn't fly with Bobby at the moment, so he continued to listen, hoping that Bobby would finish up so he could get some lunch. _

_After a while, it felt like they were having the same talk on repeat. Nothing new was being said, but neither of them could seem to end it. So, when Dean caught the new shadow on the ground, he jumped at the opportunity to move on and finally get some food in his stomach. _

Bobby felt like an ass. Dean had insisted that nothing was going on between him and Sophie―that they really were just friends, and he continued to poke, unable to stop himself from bringing up Dean's normal MO when dealing with the opposite sex.

Even though deep down, Bobby knew it was different between them. For over a year, Sophie had been in their lives and not once did he catch wind of Dean's normal behavior. Sure, he would flirt, but that boy would flirt with an inanimate object if he thought it would be amusing. And all of his flirty comments and eyebrow waggles had been met with good-natured eye rolls and shoves.

Maybe he had gone a little hard on Dean earlier; he was just worried. He might not have known Sophie existed before his sister's accident, but he had grown to care for her more than he ever thought possible. She filled a gap that he had filled for years with alcohol and hunting. Sure, he missed the hunt; sometimes when a hunter called in asking for info, he wanted nothing more than to hop in the car and lend a hand. Then, Sophie would come bounding through the house, volunteering to cook dinner or asking him if he had seen her left shoe because she was sure that Casper had hidden it, and his romanticized notions of being on the road again deflated and he was left with the warm feeling when he pointed out the missing shoe on the bottom stair and was gifted with a bright smile.

And Dean…well, that boy ought to know by now how much he meant to Bobby. From the time John had been followed into his house by a wary-eyed six year old carrying a squirming toddler, Bobby was a goner. John wanted to know about evil; Bobby wanted to know what kind of life John thought he was giving his kids.

Questioning John Winchester's parenting was never a good way to keep your teeth, but Bobby wasn't willing to back down, even when John threatened to go somewhere else.

"_There is no one else," Bobby informed him, pleased that it was true because it meant that John wasn't going to be dragging those kids into danger quite yet. He didn't know their story, but if John No Last Name, was toting around two kids, one barely old enough to waddle around, then it was just as bad as every other hunter he had run into. But, that didn't matter much to him; he would try to dissuade John from pursuing hunting and then he could wipe his hands of them. Bobby had too much to worry about without trying to keep stubborn asses from killing themselves. _

_He was about to kick them back out on the road when the freckle-faced kid spoke up for the first time. Well, more like whispered, as if he knew he was interrupting a conversation he shouldn't be, "Daddy, Sammy's tired and he's getting heavy."_

_John ran his hand over his face, not in annoyance, but exhaustion, "I know, just give me a few minutes, okay Ace?"_

"_But…"_

"_Dean," There was no change in tone, but John might as well have yelled for the change that came over the kid. No more protests were lodged and he simply shifted his brother's weight to the other arm._

_Bobby didn't deal well with kids. They were messy, loud, distracting, and dangerous. It was one thing to watch an adult in danger, they could make their own decisions, but kids…he might have told his wife that he didn't want any, but truthfully, he was terrified that they would worm their way into his heart and then something bad would happen. Therefore, he could have shot himself in the foot when he opened his big mouth and said, "This ain't me agreeing to teach you jack, but there's a room upstairs, it's got two beds you lot can use for the night."_

That night marked the beginning of the end for his ability to distance himself from the Winchesters. When Dean had come down the stairs in his Batman pajamas, leading his toddling brother by the hand, it was a lost cause.

He just didn't want something to happen between Dean and Sophie that made it uncomfortable for either of them to be there. This was supposed to be somewhere safe for the both of them. However, watching them bicker at each other about the merits of mustard on a sandwich, made him think that he had pushed the conversation too far. Wanting some air, he interrupted them before they moved on to pickles.

"I'm gonna go out to the shop for a while."

Sophie nodded in acknowledgement and Dean lifted his head.

"Do you wanna finish later?" He didn't want to, but he figured it would be easier to just have it be over.

Bobby surprised him by shaking his head, "I see no reason to beat a dead horse. You were right."

"I…" Dean started, not knowing what to say.

Bobby helped him by turning to leave, "I still think that the Charger needs a new fuel injector though."

Sophie waited until Bobby had cleared the back porch before she asked Dean, "What were you guys talking about?"

"Hmm?" Dean dragged himself out of his thoughts and answered her before she could repeat her question, "Oh, just the usual."

* * *

"So, what was with the early night?"

Dean rolled his eyes from his place under the hood of the Charger that he and Bobby had worked on for the past few weeks. He got to start the day with a long and uncomfortable conversation with Bobby. With that great beginning, he knew it was only a matter of time before Sophie asked about his date and made his day even more enjoyable.

When he ignored her first question, Sophie leaned her head out of the front seat of the car where she had been lounging and rephrased it, "How'd your date with Alex go?"

"I thought you came out here to help me, not interrogate me," Dean drawled, remaining under the hood.

"Nice deflection," Sophie pointed out, knowing Dean's tactics well enough by now. She continued sarcastically, "So, I'm guessing it went well."

Dean sighed and poked his head around the side of the car and shrugged, "It didn't go bad."

Sophie let one of her eyebrows arch up in disbelief, "Care to share?"

Dean pretended to think for a minute before shaking his head, "Nope."

"Come on, Dean," Sophie pushed, "I need to know if I invited Alex over sometime she wouldn't be trying to kill you."

"I'm not a girl, Soph," Dean said, ducking his head back under the hood. "If you want to talk about stuff like this, go find Samantha."

"Sam's not the one going on dates with my friends," Sophie countered, swinging her legs out of the currently door-less car. She stood up, squinting into the summer sun and made her way to the front of the car, naming the few parts she could recognize in her head, "Do I need to worry?"

Dean's lips pursed, continuing to stare at the engine like it could get him out of answering Sophie's questions. He knew his time was up when Sophie bumped her hip into him.

"No, it went fine, it was just…eh," Dean ended, leaning forward to tweak a bolt.

"Eh?" Sophie chuckled, turning so that she was leaning against the car. "Dean Winchester was 'eh' about a date. I didn't think such a day existed."

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up chuckles," Dean grimaced as he thought about the date. "It was pretty horrible. It was like I was in an interview! Question, after question, after question. I felt like I needed a shower afterwards just to wash it all off. I mean, come on Soph, who does that on a first date!?"

Sophie's chuckling turned into all out laughter and she shook her head at Dean's outraged tone, "Alex does, and if you had known anything about her or asked me before you took her out, I could have told you that."

"Whatever," Dean huffed, pushing her shoulder hard enough that she stumbled away from the car.

Sophie came back to give her own shove that only caused Dean to lean away.

"Weakling," Dean teased.

"Shut up," Sophie grumbled, but smiled anyways.

* * *

_A week later_

"So, I prefer to do a crossover like this…"

"Oh my god, no more soccer!" Dean shouted from his spot under the car. "I can't stand any more soccer!"

Sam and Sophie ignored him and continued to kick up dust around Bobby's lot, kicking the ball back and forth, using the broken down cars as goal posts.

Once Sam had figured out that Sophie knew how to play soccer, he had asked her questions and technique advice that she was more than willing to give. And it had been steadily driving Dean insane.

"Hey, we don't tell you to shut up about cars," Sam shot back.

"Uh, Dude, yeah you do," Dean reminded him, rolling out from under the car. "Like, all the time."

Sam looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded, "Sophie doesn't though."

"And that would be why I like her more," Dean grinned and stood up, giving the car a last look before nodding to himself. "I think she'll start now."

* * *

"Burger, I want a burger," Dean intoned, pushing down on the accelerator of the now running, if in need of aesthetic work, Charger.

"You always want a burger," Sam replied.

Dean glanced in the rearview mirror, "You're lucky we're even bringing you along, Short-stack."

Sam couldn't help the childish reaction of sticking his tongue out at his older brother, causing Sophie to laugh.

"I think we're all lucky that Bobby is letting us go out at all," Sophie interjected. "I think he keeps expecting one of us to get arrested."

"My vote's on Dean," Sam blurted out, sliding out of the way of the arm Dean threw back and was trying to hit him with.

"Dean, the road!" Sophie yelled when Dean began to drift; only relaxing when Dean returned both hands to the wheel.

"Sorry," Dean said quietly, understanding why Sophie was now breathing heavily.

The car was plunged into silence for the rest of the trip into town until they pulled into the local diner, bursting at its seams with teenagers.

"Well, here we go, the best burgers in town," Sophie declared cheerfully, unwilling to let her earlier freak out ruin their fun.

"Awesome," Dean replied happily, shutting the car off and stepping out.

They hadn't been inside for more than thirty seconds before Sophie recognized a bunch of people she went to school with. She exchanged a few waves and smiles, but they were mostly left alone until they had their food and had sat down.

"Hey, Soph," a smooth, self-assured voice greeted from behind her and if the voice didn't give it away, then Dean and Sam's raised eyebrows certainly did.

"Hi Nathan," she greeted before turning to him.

"I didn't think I would see you here. You've been MIA all summer," he said, looking over Sam and Dean before sending a small smirk at the people around him. "Who are your friends?"

"Sam and Dean," Sophie replied, pointed to each of them in turn. Sam tried for a small hey, but Dean just met his glance with indifference and took a huge bite of his burger.

"Well, we heading down to the Bottoms later, you should come," Nathan said, clearly dismissing the Winchesters.

Sophie had no interest in going with him anywhere, but before she could deny him like always, Dean chimed in, "We'd love to go."

Sophie's eyes shot to Dean's and she could tell by the glint in them that he had no desire or intention of going with Nathan and the others, but Nathan couldn't.

"Well, I don't remember inviting you or your short little boyfriend."

And there is was. There was a reason she didn't like Nathan and turned him down when he asked her somewhere―he was an ass. Except, he was used to being the ass that no one who didn't want to be shoved in a garbage can would go up against.

Well, good luck to Nathan if he got any ideas about Dean and a garbage can.

Or worse for him, if he got any ideas about Sam.

"Hmm," Dean started, but this time was interrupted by Sophie.

"We have plans, maybe some other time," she tried to pacify the growing teenage testosterone that was coming from both boys.

"Come on, Soph," Nathan pushed, he had tried for months to get to Sophie and he wasn't going to let two losers stop him.

"It's Sophie," Dean corrected smugly.

"Hey, why don't you mind your own business," Nathan ground out, pointing a finger at Dean.

"Why don't you try not acting like a stereotypical douche," Dean countered.

"Excuse me? What did you just say?"

"Sorry, if I knew you had a hearing problem, I would've spoken up. I said: you're a grade-A douche bag that needs to learn when he doesn't have a chance with a girl." Then, he pushed that extra step, "Oh, and your hair looks like a bird's been living in it, you should probably look into that."

"You know what…" Nathan stepped closer to him, causing Dean to stand up.

"Dean," Sophie heard Sam's warning tone before she stepped in front of Nathan and his friends.

"Look, we are going to leave, I'll see you later," Sophie held up her hands, listening for movement behind her.

Sophie backed up a little and addressed Sam and Dean, "Guys, let's just go."

She could feel Dean's hesitation, so she directed her next one at him, "Dean, please, can we go now?"

Dean and Nathan continued to glare at each other over her head before Dean released a deep breath and slapped Sam lightly on the shoulder, "Come on, Sammy."

Sam led the way, and Sophie made Dean go in front of her, worried about what would happen if Dean had a clear line to Nathan. And sure enough…

"She's a stuck-up bitch anyways," Scott loudly declared to his friends to save face after getting turned down by her again.

"Dean!" Sam didn't even need to turn around and Sophie hadn't registered that Dean did an about-face before he shouted his brother's name.

Sophie planted her hands on Dean's chest, instantly halting his determined strides, "Don't," she said softly.

"What, Pretty Boy," Nathan taunted, comfortable with his upper-hand. "You gonna let a girl tell you what to do? Damn, she must be a bigger bitch than I thought."

"Please, Dean," Sophie persuaded, "He isn't worth this."

Sam came up behind Dean, hoping that Dean would walk away, but willing to back him up no matter what he decided.

Ripping his eyes away from Nathan, Dean's gaze fell on Sophie, her pleas not falling on deaf ears.

"Okay," he told her, nearly biting through his lip in his attempts to not respond to the jack ass behind her.

"Okay," he repeated, sending one last glare towards Nathan before he turned on his heel and nodded at Sam to continue on.

"God, what a loser!" Nathan crowed, following closely behind Sophie. "Anytime you want a real man, just give me a call, Sweetheart," he whispered to Sophie, finishing by grabbing a handful of Sophie's ass.

Dean was apparently keeping half an eye on her because he spun again and this time there was nothing that Sophie was going to say that was going to stop him from laying the douche bag out. However, he didn't get the chance to; Sophie turned and threw all of her power into punching him in the face.

"Don't you ever touch me again! And if I'm ever looking for 'a real man', your name would never come to mind!" Sophie spat out. She was kind of surprised when Nathan stepped closer to her, an angry mask on his face.

"Think about it and your friends will be carrying you home," Dean threatened, his voice barely above a growl.

Nathan finally gained the brain cells necessary to recognize the threat and he backed away, "Whatever, man. She isn't worth the trouble."

They made it back the car without any further incidences, sitting in the darkness for a moment before Dean turned the key over.

"Well, that was fun," he said with mock brightness.

"Speak for yourself," Sam's voice came from the darkness in the backseat. "That was like a bad scene out of a teen movie."

Dean nodded in agreement and looked over to Sophie, "How's the hand?"

"I didn't know that punching someone was so painful," she revealed, cradling her hand to her chest.

"Faces are surprisingly hard," Dean said, reaching out for her to relinquish the hand for inspection. He rotated her hand a bit and checked each of her knuckles for breaks, noting when she winced. "Not too bad, nothing seems broken. It will be bruised tomorrow though."

"Awesome," she groaned. "Any chance that Bobby won't notice?"

"Nope," Sam and Dean said simultaneously.

"But, take comfort in the fact that Douche Bag will be sporting a black eye tomorrow."

* * *

Sure enough, Sophie had bruises on her hand that didn't fade for a week. However, once they explained what had happened, Bobby's only comment was to ask Sam and Dean why he was still walking.

By this point, they were beginning to wonder where John was, he was two weeks late and he had only left a message on Bobby's machine saying he would be a little longer than planned. Sophie didn't mind having the boys there, but she knew that Sam and Dean were getting anxious. Finally, three weeks late, John showed up in the middle of the afternoon unannounced.

They were out in the yard when the rumble of the Impala had Sam and Dean's heads shooting towards the front. "Dad's back!" Dean said excitedly, always glad when his dad made it home from a hunt.

That excitement fell once they were all in the house and John immediately ordered them to get packed up, that they were hitting the road in an hour.

"I…don't you want to rest for the night?" Dean asked, catching sight of Sam's crestfallen expression at giving up the extended period of normalcy they had enjoyed. He didn't even want to look at Sophie because he knew she was disappointed.

"No, I want to get some miles in, we'll stop once we are out of South Dakota," he informed his eldest, downing the cup of coffee that Bobby had offered.

That sparked movement in them and the three of them dragged themselves up to Sam and Dean's room―Sophie sitting on Dean's bed as they packed up their meager belongings, all of them obviously disappointed in the recent turn of events, even if they had expected it.

"So…" Sophie tried to start a conversation, but was unsuccessful.

"We'll call," Dean assured, showing a pair of socks into his duffle.

"Yeah, I know," she replied, but they all knew that it wasn't really the same. "Has your dad said where you're heading yet?"

"No," Dean answered, glancing at Sam as his lips tightened in annoyance. His eyes left his brother to scan the room, mentally running over the list of things he had brought with him. "Hey, where is my gray shirt?"

"I borrowed it when you tried to show me how to change the oil in the Charger, remember? It's in my room, I'll go grab it."

"Nah," Dean waved her down, "I got it."

Sophie shrugged and turned her attention to Sam, telling him that he should take the book he had borrowed from her.

When Dean came back into the room without his shirt, Sophie started to stand, "Did you not find it? I'll go take a look."

"Don't worry about it," he said shortly, "I'll get it next time. Dad's waiting for us."

"I…is something wrong?" Sophie asked, her brow furrowing in confusion at the change in attitude.

"No, I'm fine."

His tone had Sam lifting his head and staring at him. Something was definitely wrong, but he could tell that Dean didn't want to involve Sophie in it, so he would just ask later.

"Okay then," she said uncertainly.

"Come on, Sam, we gotta go." He ordered, throwing the bag over his shoulder.

Sophie exchanged a look with Sam, but they followed him out anyways. When they got to the living room, John was already standing by the door. "You ready?"

"Yes, sir," they both answered.

"Good," John turned towards Bobby. "Thanks for keeping an eye on them."

"Any time," Bobby said honestly. "They were no problem."

"I'll remember that," John told him, then turned to the boys after a quick bye to Sophie. "I'll be in the car."

Bobby stepped up to them once John left the house. "You two stay safe, watch out for each other, and if you are ever in the area, bug your dad until he swings by."

Sam chuckled and gave Bobby a quick hug. "Will do, Bobby. Thanks again, it was nice being stationary for a while."

Dean allowed himself to be pulled into a hug by Bobby, and gave him a weak smile. "See ya soon."

Bobby backed away to let Sophie say her goodbyes and even he could notice that Dean was not in the mood.

Sophie started with Sam, "Don't let your brother get away with teasing you. You're gonna be taller than him one day and you'll be able to just sit on him until he gives in."

Sam laughed; Sophie had told them any time Dean started picking on him that one day Sam was going to be taller. He only hoped that it was sooner than later. "Thanks, Sophie! I've had fun."

Sam welcomed her hug and then went to stand by the door.

"So uh…" Sophie was all of a sudden awkward. She was never awkward around Dean, but then, he never gave her a reason to be. Now it was like talking to a brick wall, "I guess we'll talk later?"

"Yeah, sure," he said dismissively.

Sophie reached up to give him a hug, and received a one armed, pat on the shoulder in return. Sophie bit her lip when Dean and Sam exited the house, Sam giving a last wave behind him.

"Any idea what that was about?" Bobby asked, assuming that something had happened upstairs.

Sophie shook her head and broke for the stairs, intending on shutting herself in her room until she could guarantee that she could be questioned by Bobby and have her eyes not water. The first thing she noticed when she closed the door behind her was Dean's gray shirt lying on the ground near her bed. There was no way he could have missed it; there was hardly anything else on her floor. It wasn't until she stepped further into her room that Sophie noticed it…

…the folder she thought she had slipped back underneath her bed that morning. The folder that she had kept secreted away for the past seven weeks. The folder that was damningly labeled 'College'.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! They were very much appreciated. I promise that I will respond to all of them this time around, this past week has just been hectic. I started a new job and I got to meet Misha Collins! It was incredibly exciting and he was extremely friendly. **

**So, I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!**

* * *

Looking back, Sophie didn't know why she had kept the college brochures hidden; it wasn't like they were skin mags or something that she should be ashamed of. She had nothing to feel guilty about…so why was there a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach?

Okay, maybe she knew why she had kept them tucked underneath her bed. It was because she had an inkling of an idea about how Dean would react; he would be upset and she wanted to spare him. It was obvious that Dean wasn't planning on going to college. He had never mentioned it, but Dean wasn't the most academically intrigued student to begin with and she doubted that the idea of _paying_ to go to school even occurred to him except to mock the idea.

Dean was so stuck on the idea of college being a stupid that he likely hadn't thought that she might want to go. They never discussed it; it was never brought up even in passing.

That was why she hid them all summer, because she hadn't figured out a way to break it to him that their friendship was going to change. Honestly, it made her stomach clench when it came up as well…she wanted Dean in her life.

Bobby, Dean, and Sam had come into her life under shitty circumstances. In no world was she glad her mom's had died, but having them made it better. Bobby had been understanding about her desire to head off to college after senior year. He even encouraged it by buying her an SAT prep book and going in to talk to her guidance counselor. He had also pushed her to say something to Dean all summer; even if it was just to mention the possibility. She knew that he would always be there for her; he wasn't leaving the salvage yard and on breaks she would be able to come home.

Sam and Dean, on the other hand, didn't have a permanent address. It had never been a problem before because when they were near South Dakota or their dad needed them to stay somewhere for a while, they would come to Bobby's. She was the stationary one.

What would happen if she went away to college and they were all moving around? Would their schedules ever match up? Would she be too busy at school to keep up with weekly phone calls from Dean? Would she change too much?

She would like to believe that nothing would change, but she knew that wasn't reality. Things had to change and it terrified her. Their friendship was already unconventional, taking place mostly on the phone, sporadic stops during the school year, and now the past few weeks at Bobby's. If normal, everyday friendships couldn't stand the test of college, then how in the world would theirs?

* * *

"Do you want my last few fries?" Sam offered up, sliding the greasy paper-lined basket towards his older brother.

"No."

John looked up from his dinner he was finishing to check on his oldest. Ever since he had picked them up from Bobby's, Dean had been quiet, moody even. He expected that from Sam at this point; for the past year, every time they moved, Sam had thrown a fit. But this time, Sam hadn't said a word; he just kept peering at his brother from under his shaggy bangs. That in itself was worrying and now Dean was turning down food. If it were Sam, John would have told him to get over it by now. But, how did he handle Dean? Dean didn't give him problems, and that in turn gave him more problems when trying to figure him out.

"What?" Sam filled in the stunned silence. Normally he had to fend Dean's food questing fingers away with a fork.

"I'm not hungry, okay? Leave it, Sammy." Dean told him before sliding out of the booth and stomping out of the diner.

"You know what that was about?" John asked, taking another bite of his burger.

"I…" Sam was pretty sure that it had to do with Sophie, but he also knew that his dad wouldn't understand and then he would just give Dean a hard time about it. "No, he must just be tired."

* * *

"Dean?" Sam whispered in the dark room. He had waited until his dad's loud snores echoed around the room, ensuring that they would be able to talk with some form of privacy. When he didn't receive a response, he turned his head and could just make out his brother's outline with the light that snuck around the curtains. "Dude, I know you're awake. Stop faking."

"I'm trying to sleep," Dean grumbled, keeping his body turned from his brother.

Sam flung an arm out and slapped Dean's shoulder, "What's up with you?"

"Well, I'm tired," Dean bit out. "I keep trying to sleep and my annoying brother won't shut the hell up."

"Dean!" Sam stopped abruptly when there was a hitch in their dad's breath, but continued a few seconds later. "Is this about Sophie?"

Dean hesitated a moment too long, "No, it isn't."

Sam saw his opening, "Did something happen?"

"Damn it, Sammy!" Dean growled out, rolling over to glare at his brother. "Drop it."

"Do you like her?" Sam pushed, thinking that maybe his brother had developed…feelings for her and was just upset that they had to leave.

"Of course I do," Dean answered and for a second Sam stopped breathing in surprise and then his brother continued. "You know she's my friend."

"That wasn't what I was talking about," Sam shook his head. He didn't know if Dean was being purposefully dense or was really not getting it. "Do you, you know….like her, like her?"

"Could you be _any_ more of a girl?" Dean asked in disdain. "No, I don't "like her, like her"."

Sam's teeth clenched together, "Then what is it?"

"Go to sleep, Sammy," Dean ordered before rolling back over on his side.

Sam wanted to keep pushing, he wanted to know what could get his brother so moody, but it was pretty obvious that Dean wasn't going to answer him.

"Night, Dean," Sam responded.

* * *

Bobby took another sip of his coffee, peering over the rim of the cup to evaluate Sophie pushing her eggs around her plate in disinterest. It had been a little over a week since John had picked the boys up. When she hadn't come down from her room by dinner time that day, Bobby had climbed the stairs to find her sitting in the middle of her bed, the college brochures in front of her.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" He asked, guessing that Dean had finally found out about her plans.

Sophie shook her head without lifting it, unsurprised when the bed dipped down as Bobby sat next to her. "I messed up, didn't I?"

Deep down she knew she should have been honest with him; that maybe the fact she had hidden it actually hurt him more than the possibility of her going away.

Bobby took a deep breath before answering, knowing that his opinion had a lot of effect on Sophie's. "Listen well, Sophie, because I'm probably going to mess this up. As much as Sam denies it, he and John are the same―they run hot. If something pisses them off or upsets them, everybody within a mile wide radius knows about it. Dean is a bit different. He is used to running interference between the two of them. He has seen the consequences of shouting off the first things that pop into your head. So, when he gets upset, he isn't going to rant and rave, he is going to stew for a while. He just needs time to figure things out, and then he will be able to talk to you."

"But, I want…" Sophie wanted him to talk to her now.

Bobby patted her on the knee and stood up, "Give him time."

* * *

"Damn it, Dean!" John shouted as he grabbed up another handful of gauze to press against his son's forehead. He ground his teeth together as Dean winced when he pressed a little too hard. "What the hell were you thinking out there?!"

Sam ran forward with the fully stocked first aid kit and pulled out a needle and thread without waiting for his dad to ask for them. He could tell from the amount of blood that was pumping out of the cut near Dean's scalp that he was going to need stitches.

When Dean didn't answer, John put his hand under Dean's chin and tilted his head none too gently, his motions driven more by lingering concern and not by real anger. Once Dean was looking at the ceiling, John prodded around the cut and pushing Dean's hair back to figure out how large it was. "I should shave your damn head."

Dean's head jerked out of John's grasp, causing his father to curse as more blood poured down his face.

"I said I should, not going to. It'd serve you right for not paying attention out there. This could've been a lot worse than a cut on the head."

"I know," Dean said out of the corner of his mouth, trying to avoid getting any more blood in it.

"You gonna tell me why you were day dreaming out there?" John reached out for the bottle of alcohol Sam was holding and poured it onto Dean's wound without warning.

"Shit!" Dean shouted, trying to pull his head away again.

John stopped him and held his chin in one hand, tilting it up as much as he could. "Close your eyes."

"Dad, I'm sure it's fine," Dean tried.

"That wasn't a request!" John barked. He was jumpy; his kids weren't supposed to get hurt. He knew that his job and what he had trained them for was dangerous, but he was a parent. There was nothing that could end that instinct to protect them, that hated seeing them hurt―worse when they got hurt because of a situation he had put them in.

Dean gritted his teeth and obeyed his dad. Not talking throughout the cleaning and the stitching up of his wound.

"So, spill it," John ordered as he went to the bathroom to wash off his hands.

"Can we do this tomorrow? I'm kinda tired," Dean propositioned as he swung his still boot-clad feet unto the bed.

"Kinda tired," John murmured to himself, scoffing without amusement. "Kinda tired?" He asked a little louder, glancing at his sons in the mirror. "Well, I don't give a damn if you're ready to pass out, you are gonna tell me what the HELL is going on with you!"

"Yeah, that's a good way to get him to tell you," Sam mumbled, ignoring the glare that both his father and brother sent him.

"Sam, when I want your opinion, I'll give it to you," John pinned him with a stare.

It was Sam's turn to glare.

"Listen, Dad, Sam, I'm fine, okay?" Dean held out his hands trying to pacify both of them before it turned into one of their arguments. They had been butting heads more often. Dean blamed it on the fact that Sam was taking this whole being a teenager thing in stride.

"_Fine_ doesn't get you thrown into a headstone," John told him. "This was routine, Dean. It wasn't even a difficult salt and burn."

"I just haven't been sleeping well," Dean explained. Which was technically true, ever since he found out that Sophie wanted to go to college, and had hidden it from him, he had been unable to get a good night's worth of sleep. He just kept running over everything that was going to change.

It was Dean's turn to be pinned down with a stare as John tried to work past the half-truth that he was being given. His son may be an excellent liar, but he had forgotten who had taught him in the beginning. All lies were more believable if you threw in a half-truth, it helped the facial expressions. "Is that all?"

Sam shifted nervously, he was considering telling his dad that Dean had been in a fight of sorts with Sophie. He wouldn't normally give up with brother like that, but Dean's distraction had caused him to get hurt on a simple salt and burn…what if they were hunting something serious?

"That's all," Dean met his eyes without flinching.

John didn't believe it, but he was willing to let Dean have his secrets for now. So long as they didn't get him into more trouble. "Any more mistakes and I'm not going to back down on this."

* * *

"Is he ever going to talk to me again?" Sophie bit her lip as she asked the question through the phone.

A long winded sigh came through, "Well, since neither of you will tell me what's wrong…listen, just give it time."

"That's what Bobby said," Sophie complained. "I don't _want_ to give it time; it's been a month, Sam. A month and he hasn't given me anything."

"He's just being Dean," Sam explained. "He doesn't do…I don't know, talking? He's only going to call you when he figures out where he stands on whatever it is neither of you will tell me."

He only sounded mildly petulant.

"I…" Sophie didn't want Sam to be upset with her as well, but keeping him in the dark was obviously bugging him. "I had college brochures in my room and he found them."

"Oh," Sam replied lamely, immediately understanding why Dean had taken to being a girl lately. "Well…that's…good for you."

"What?" Sophie asked in surprise, not expecting to have Sam in her corner.

"Good for you, you should go to college," Sam told her earnestly. "I mean, it's gonna suck if we stop by Bobby's and you aren't there, but going is important."

"Thanks," Sophie was relieved, at least she still had one friend.

"_Is that dad?"_

Sophie's breath caught when she heard Dean's question over the phone. She expected Sam to lie, but he calmly responded.

"No, it's Sophie. You wanna talk to her?"

Apparently Dean wasn't going to dignify that with a verbal response because Sam came back to her. "So, how is Bobby doing?"

* * *

_Two months later_

Sophie let the front door slam shut, knowing that if Bobby was in the house then he would holler at her in a second.

Sure enough, "How many times do I gotta tell you, don't let the front door slam! ?"

"Sorry, Bobby!"

"And don't yell!"

Sophie tossed her backpack down on the floor and smiled, Bobby was all bark and no bite. At least with her. She had seen him grill Matt a week ago when he had stopped by to pick her up for the football game.

Despite the radio silence, she hadn't given up on Dean yet. She was calling him a couple of times a week until one day he picked up and told her to stop calling him, that he would call when he wanted to talk. So, she respected his wishes and stopped trying to get a hold of him, but she still talked to Sam and was getting updates via proxy.

She didn't know about the arguments the brothers were having every time she called Sam. Sam kept pushing Dean to talk to her, trying to figure out why he was still giving her the silent treatment. Dean kept his reasons to himself, but he had rationalized that if he broke off from her now, it wouldn't suck so much when she just drifted away because of school.

Finally, Sam had snapped that yes, going away to college MAY cause them to not be as close, but if he kept pushing her away now then they wouldn't have the chance at being friends at all. And wasn't that what was really important? They at least deserved the shot.

So, the next time they were driving near Bobby's and John had put out the subtle option to swing by, Dean had shocked Sam by agreeing.

More shockingly, was when Sophie went into the kitchen and saw John sitting at the table with her uncle. "Uh, hi, John." She threw out uncertainly, her mind already off of the man and on to his sons.

"Sophie," he said by way of greeting, a slight smile tugging at his lips as he noticed her glance around the kitchen and into the living room. "They're outside, Dean's changing the Impala's oil."

"Thanks," she graced him with a small smile, but hesitated to go outside. She didn't know whose suggestion it had been to swing by Bobby's, so she didn't know if she would be welcome out in the garage.

"Why don't you head on outside," Bobby suggested, both wanting his niece to talk to Dean and to finish up his conversation with John about a hunt he was thinking about. "John said that Dean wanted to swing by so you might as well get some time in before they hit the road again."

Sophie's heart skipped a beat when she found out that Dean had wanted to come by. Hopefully that meant he was ready to talk. Nodding to both men, Sophie broke for the back door, grinning as it fell shut behind her and her uncle was yelling again. She slowed as she reached the shop; despite Bobby's reassurance, she didn't know what she was going to find when she made it out there.

Naturally, she found Sam and Dean bickering. "You're going to have to learn how to do this one day."

"I could just take it to a garage," Sam reasoned, refusing to get up from the cooler that was sitting on the ground.

"_Her_, Sammy. And she should never be taken to a garage if you can help it. She deserves better than that," Dean informed him, rolling out from underneath the car.

"You can't anthropomorphize a car, Dean," Sam shook his head.

"Sure I c…Sophie," he changed tracks.

"Hey," Sophie said hesitantly, only making eye contact with Dean for a moment before catching Sam's gaze with a wave and then focusing on the car.

"Hey, Sophie!" Sam enthusiastically greeted before taking in the awkward eye avoidance that both Sophie and Dean were doing. "I'm gonna go check and see if dad needs anything."

Sam made his quick escape, throwing only one pointed look at Dean over his shoulder.

Awkward silence blanketed the shop.

"Hey," Dean filled it in, climbing off of the roller board.

"Hi," Sophie responded nervously, picking at her nails to fight the urge to bite them.

"So…" Dean spun back around to the Impala, pretending that he had something to do under the hood, but really just stalling for time. He sucked at stuff like this. The only person, besides Sophie, that he could even kind of claim was his friend was Sammy and he was his brother so it wasn't the same. It was so much easier to just move on and not have to work on friendships. But, Sam was right, this was worth it, it was worth being uncomfortable. So, he extended the olive branch the only way he knew how. "You wanna give me a hand with her?"

Sophie recognized Dean's offer for what it was. She would have preferred to talk about everything, but she couldn't really expect that out of Dean and so she grabbed the offer before it was taken off the table. "Yeah, I'd love to."

* * *

"Leave the door open!" Bobby hollered up the stairs.

"Why!?" Sophie questioned, leaning her head down the stairwell.

"Because I said so, that's why," Bobby clarified, but he was apparently ignored because he heard her door click shut. Turning, he shook his head when he met John's smirk.

The smirk turned into a light chuckle, "Careful or they're going to think that you don't trust them."

"They're teenagers, I don't trust them as far as I can throw'm," Bobby responded.

John nodded in assent, "Probably for the best."

Sophie was shaking her own head at Dean, "It's like they don't trust us or something."

Dean chuckled, "I'm pretty sure you aren't the problem."

Sophie eyed Dean as he plopped himself down on her bed, "You're probably right."

It was finally time to breach the untouchable topic. As Dean picked at her worn floral bedspread, Sophie nonchalantly brought it up. "So, about college…"

Okay, maybe it wasn't as smooth as she thought it was because Dean grinned warily, "Nice transition there, Soph."

"Hey, I'm not good at this stuff," Sophie argued.

"And I am?" Dean countered, his eyebrow climbing closer to his hairline.

"Touché," Sophie walked across the room and fell onto the bed next to Dean, "But, we should probably figure it out."

"What's there to figure out?" Dean asked, picking up her old stuffed bunny off the bed and holding it up to scrutinize it.

"Leave Mr. Bunny alone," Sophie reached out for his arm, mock annoyed when he pulled it further away.

"I'd forgotten about Mr. Bunny...poor thing, having such a stupid name."

"Hey! I was a kid!" Sophie defended his name, smacking Dean on the chest before he finally relented and let her have it.

"You know, you probably shouldn't take him with you, you're gonna get teased like hell for having a bunny named Mr. Bunny," Dean said with forced lightness.

"Psh, everyone will love him."

"Have you decided where you wanna go yet?" Dean asked, turning his head to the side to look at her.

"I don't know yet. I take my SATs in a month, but I think I might want to go out to the west coast."

Dean swallowed hard, trying to imagine Sophie hanging out on some beach with a new group of giggling friends, normal friends with normal concerns. "Why the west coast?"

"Well, it's where I grew up, and maybe it would be good for me to go back," Sophie responded, her eyes on the ceiling and Mr. Bunny clutched to her chest.

"Huh," Dean forced himself to not shut down, to focus on the positives, on what Sophie needed him to say. "I guess I could always use some more sun."

Sophie's eyes finally shot over to Dean, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, but I swear if your roommate is some bleach blonde bimbo, I can't be held responsible for my actions," Dean had to end with a joke.

Sophie tried to ignore the burning behind her eyelids, but ended up lunging across the open space of the bed and wrapping her arms around Dean. "Thank you."

"Yeah, anytime," Dean said softly, even letting his own arms wrap around her briefly before he sat up abruptly. "Okay, enough chick flickiness, let's go bug Sammy."

* * *

_Preview:_

"_If you're going away, then you should know how to defend yourself," Dean told her, ignoring her protests as he pulled her blankets off of her._

"_I highly doubt that you're qualified to teach me anything besides how to be annoyed!" Sophie shouted as she was exposed to the chilly morning air._

"_Bobby cleared this, so get your ass out of bed, we have work to do," Dean ordered._


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hey everyone! I'm working through some writer's block at the same time as actually working (who needs jobs, writing is more fun). I am working on getting this story back on track as well as my other in-progress ones. Reviews are serious motivators, so if you want to see this updated quicker, then be sure to drop me a line or two. This is by no means a gun to your head, I will update as soon as I have another chapter ready…it's just easier to write when I have review pressure!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The symphony of frogs had not given way to the birds when Dean eased the door to Sophie's room open, the old rusty hinges creaking noisily. Dean's breath frosted in the cold morning's air as he slid into the room and mercilessly flicked on the light without warning.

"Rise and shine!" He cheerfully greeted as Sophie shot straight up in bed, surprised by the sudden brightness.

Sophie blinked blearily and then flung her body back on the bed, pulling her pillow over her head in the process.

"Get out," she said, her voice muffled by the pillow.

"Nope, time to get up, greet the day, and all that crap," Dean said, proceeding to flick the light on and off rapidly. When her only response was to roll herself into a cocoon, Dean walked across her room to the end of the bed.

"Five seconds and I'll make you get up," Dean threatened.

"Ugh," Sophie grunted, digging her face deeper into the pillow in the hopes of blocking out Dean's voice. "Leave me alone."

"Four, three," Dean counted down, "two…okay, you asked for it." Grabbing a hold of the blanket near her feet, Dean began to tug, ignoring her protests as she was slowly exposed to the cold air. "We've got a lot to go through today. If you are going away, then you need to know how to protect yourself." Dean told her.

"I highly doubt that you're qualified to teach me anything besides how to be annoyed," Sophie said as she half-sat up and scrambled for the blankets before they could slide all the way off her legs.

Dean chuckled and gave one sharp tug to get them clear of her questing hands. "Bobby cleared this, so get your ass out of bed, we've got work to do," Dean ordered.

Despite her protests, Sophie was actually kind of interested in what Dean thought he could teach her, and why Bobby had given him the go ahead. However, that didn't mean that she was going to make it easy on Dean.

"Go away, it's the weekend, I should be sleeping."

"I'll drag you out there wearing that," Dean said, pointedly looking at her bare legs.

Sophie thought about saying he wouldn't, but knew that he would probably just on principal. "Get out and I'll get up."

"Uh, I think you're forgetting that I live with Sammy. I'm not stupid―the moment I leave the room, you'll lock the door and curl back up in bed. I'm not leaving until those feet touch the floor and you're vertical."

Sophie sighed, "I promise I'll get up?"

"Nope," Dean said, deciding that they had wasted enough time. He curled his hand around her ankle and pulled on it. "Up."

Sophie's next move was pathetically predictable. Pulling back her other foot, she quickly struck Dean in the stomach, causing his breath to leave him in a soft whoosh. But, that didn't get her what she wanted and she couldn't help the grown when he caught her foot and added it to his grip.

"I warned ya."

She shrieked as her bed rapidly disappeared from underneath her, desperately clutching at whatever she could reach, but she was unable to stop the momentum Dean had. Finally, she hit the ground with a dull thud and an indignant squeak, 'Dean!"

Not bothering to hide his chuckle, Dean released his hold on her legs and moved a safe distance away. "Now I think you're going to get up, but just in case, I'm taking these with me."

Dean gathered up her blankets and made for the door.

"I hate you right now!" Sophie shouted at his retreating back.

"You'll get over it," Dean countered with a smirk, shutting the door behind him so she could get dressed.

Sophie was just pulling herself to her feet when Dean's voice came through the door, "You've got five minutes."

"Hmph, like that's gonna happen," Sophie muttered, moving as slow as possible, determined to not get downstairs until at least ten minutes had passed.

* * *

"So, tell me again why we have to do this at the crack of dawn and not later in the day when I can actually feel my fingers?" Sophie demanded as she rubbed her hands together and bobbed on the balls of her feet.

"Who says we won't be doing this later as well?" Dean sent her a wide smile, knowing it would only serve to piss her off more.

"I do," Sophie declared with a grimace, the small bit of wind flowing through the yard making her even colder.

"Well, we should get to work then," Dean said, squaring up with her. "So, have you ever had any kind of training or been in a fight?"

"This one time Kyle Miller took my doll and wouldn't give her back so I shoved him," Sophie told him seriously.

"Haha," Dean deadpanned, "in that case, my job is almost done."

"Good, can I go back to bed now?" Sophie tried.

Dead shook his head, "Nope, I kinda doubt that anyone will be stealing your dolls away."

"I kind of doubt that anything's going to happen at all and that you and Bobby are just being a bunch of women about me leaving," Sophie taunted.

"Oh, isn't just me and Bobby," Dean ignored the obvious jab, "Dad and Sammy think you need this too."

Sophie sighed, what she wouldn't give to have another woman around. Sometimes it was nice, living with Bobby and having the Winchesters around. When her mom was alive, it was just the two of them. She wished that she could say something in her dad's favor, like—he was in the military and he died in a war, or was in an accident, or he had to travel a lot for work.

But, truth was, he was just an ass who left when she was eleven. There was no warning; it was like one day he just had enough, decided that he didn't want to have a family anymore. Although to be fair, it was probably for the best, he was a bit of an asshole.

When it was just her and her mom, it was tough. Her mom took her dad leaving pretty badly and for the first few months, it had been tears and an increased work load. But, finally she figured out how to move on and they banded together―Sophie doing everything she could to make her mom's life easier and her mom successfully juggling a career and being a single parent.

Then, she moved into Bobby's after the accident and it was just strange. Living with a man was something that Sophie barely remembered and the memories she had weren't positive. She didn't even have time to adjust to living with Bobby when Sam and Dean showed up. Teenage boys were another thing entirely…they were messy, they smelt bad, they had no sense of personal property, they were nosy, they were loud…they completely changed her life, they brought her back to life after her mom died.

So, yeah, she liked having them around, but did they have to be so damn protective all the time? You would think she was about to break with the way they treated her―always trying to keep anything from happening to her to the point of wrapping her in bubble wrap. And now she couldn't even go off to college, something that thousands of people did every year, without her having to wake up before it was light out to 'stay safe'.

"Well, that is just awesome," Sophie said with an eye-roll. "Are you guys going to come with me? Camp out in the dorm? You know, I hear that the beds in most dorms are lofted, you could probably just sleep under there."

"Don't tempt me," Dean advised. "Do you want to get to work now or do you wanna keep talking?"

"Let's just get this over with," Sophie relented, taking her hands out of her sweatshirt pocket.

"Okay, so I'm not expecting you to learn everything today, but by the time we leave Bobby's, you should be able to keep yourself safe for the most part."

"Safe from what exactly? We never covered that part," Sophie asked.

"Uh," Dean reached up and rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. There was an easy answer and the one that he wasn't going to tell her, "guys?"

"So, once I'm in college, all guys instantly become a threat?" Her amusement was clear.

"Guys are always a threat," Dean said seriously. "I mean come on, have you looked in a mirror?" Dean was being honest when he told Sam that he didn't like Sophie like that, but he wasn't blind, she was attractive—Attractive and way to trusting in the good intentions of others.

Sophie's brows furrowed, "Yeah, but I don't…"

"Are you done stalling yet?" Dean interrupted. It had only taken a second for him to regret saying that and the quicker they could move on the better.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Sophie waved him on.

"Okay, the best thing you have going for you is also your biggest weakness—your size. Since you're about the same size as a short stalk of corn, no one is going to expect you to fight back. The surprise when you do might give you just enough time to get away."

"You mean run?" Sophie asked.

"Yes, run," Dean confirmed his arms crossed over his chest. "The first chance you get, run as far away as possible, head for occupied buildings, well-lit roads, just get around other people. It's pretty rare that someone is willing to attack a screaming girl in front of witnesses."

"Wouldn't it be better to teach me how to knock them out of something? Wouldn't that be safer?"

"They're probably going to be bigger than you. With a lot more training you could do it, but with the time we have, running is going to be your best bet."

"Okay, surprise, then run, got it," Sophie reported.

"Good," Dean said before continuing, "One of the most common ways for women to be attacked is from behind. It's easy for an attacker to step up behind her and wrap an arm around her waist or grab a hold of her hair."

Dean stopped when he heard Sophie chuckle. "Something funny?"

"I'm sorry," she snorted, "but where did you learn this? I mean really, I know you have this whole badass tough guy thing going on, but have you ever been in a fight?"

Dean didn't respond verbally, but stepped behind her and tightly wrapped his arms around her, purposefully leaving one of hers free. "Okay, you are out jogging one evening and someone grabs you. Get free."

Immediately, Sophie let her feet fall out from under her and became dead weight.

Dean just tightened his hold on her and began walking around the yard. "Hey, thanks. Now I can just carry your tiny ass to my car. Don't worry, I'll leave your body where they can find it."

Sophie started slapping Dean's arm with her free hand, "Put me down."

"Nope, you have to get out on your own. You think that you can reason with people?"

"Well, how am I supposed to get out? You said you were going to teach me," Sophie whined.

"I am," Dean said, his voice laced with amusement. He gave her a sharp squeeze, "Can't you feel the learning?"

"You aren't going to be able to feel something soon if you don't put me down," Sophie warned, starting to kick her legs with purpose now. Frustration leaked through her when she couldn't get an upper-hand. Maybe Dean was right, she was too small.

"You aren't too small to do this," Dean read her thoughts. "You just have to realize that you aren't going to be able to overpower an attacker. You have to be smarter."

"Gee, now I'm insulted, because I'm definitely smarter than you; I should be able to figure this out."

"Says the girl I have carried around like a rag doll for the past five minutes," Dean smirked.

"Shut up," Sophie grumbled, before taking a deep breath, "Could you please tell me?"

"There are five primary targets on the human body—eyes, throat, solar plexus, groin, and the knees," Dean explained, lowering her until her feet touched the ground again.

Sophie spun so that she was facing him, "Okay, what am I supposed to do with those?"

"Well, my suggestion is to always go for the groin," Dean said. "Trust me, it doesn't matter how big a guy is, it will keep him on the ground for a while."

Sophie nodded in understanding, "So, you want me to try to kick you?"

Dean smirked, "Well, I don't think it is going to be as easy as that, but yeah, pretty much."

"Just remember, you told me to do this, you can't be mad at me later."

"Quit talking and do it already," Dean ordered.

* * *

The room was silent as Sam dropped another bag of now unusable peas onto his brother. Well, silent except for the random bursts of chuckling that were immediately silenced with a stony glare.

"Hey, remember what I…" Sophie suddenly found a spot of peeling wallpaper on the far side of the room to be fascinating as the glare was turned her way.

Finally, after three and a half minutes of amused glances, Sam couldn't hold it in anymore and let his laughter go. "I can't believe you kicked him!"

Dean felt his face go bright red. Things had been going well; he taught Sophie a few tricks and then thought it was time to have her try to break free from a hold. He didn't plan on her being that quick of a learner and had gone into it with a few goading comments, figuring that she might hit a shin or his stomach.

He never saw the quick mule kick that had him hitting the ground in a cloud of dirt.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews, alerts and favorites! They were very encouraging, so here's the next chapter! Please let me know what you guys are thinking.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Who's Matt?"

"Huh?" Sophie asked, too busy trying to lift her face off of the ground to understand the question that came out of left-field.

"Matt," Dean repeated, blocking an elbow that Sophie threw towards his head. "Bobby keeps complaining to dad about him."

"Oh, just a friend from school," Sophie answered vaguely.

"So, 'just a friend' has Bobby threatening to bring out his gun collection?" Dean asked skeptically. Bobby hadn't made his dislike for Matt a secret; any time the phone would ring, Bobby would glare at it like it was a rattlesnake ready to strike. The rare times it actually was for Sophie and she took it to her room, he would begin muttering about how he _'should've brought out the guns the first time he came around'._

"Bobby's just overreacting as usual," Sophie grunted when Dean tightened his hold on her arm.

"Are you going to break out of this any time soon? The ground is getting kinda hard," Dean complained before jumping back on the Matt topic. "Who is he really?"

"You think the ground is hard?! Try having your face smashed against it—I think I've swallowed some gravel." Sophie whined. "And really, he's just a guy."

Sophie released a gasp as Dean lifted her arm upwards and put strain on her shoulder. "Ow! I thought this was training, not torture Sophie for information!"

"I'm a multi-tasker," Dean informed her simply. "You can either break out of this or tell me who Matt really is."

Sophie struggled for a minute, but just ended up looking like a fish out of water. Realizing that she couldn't break free of the hold, she let herself relax on the ground, "We've gone out a few times, okay?"

Dean faltered for a moment; despite where the conversation was obviously heading, the fact that Sophie was quasi-dating someone was surprising. He just assumed that she would tell him something like that…but then, she kept college from him, what were a few dates? His hesitation gave Sophie the opening she needed to break from his hold, sparking a short grappling session.

Three minutes of struggling later, Dean and Sophie collapsed on their backs next to one another. Sophie let out huffing breaths, unable to get the burning sensation out of her lungs.

"Is it serious?" Dean ran a hand over his brow, wiping off the sticky sweat that had formed from the hot afternoon sun beating down on them. Unlike him and Sam, who were currently in between schools while their dad looked up jobs, Sophie had to go to school. Because she was gone during the day, they had to push her self-defense lessons back to the afternoon.

Sophie was thrilled because even waking up for school was later than Dean had her up over the weekend. Dean less so because it meant that he spent most of the day working on cars or practicing the new exorcisms his dad wanted him to learn. The cars weren't the problem, but the Latin? Definitely more up Sam's alley.

And, he hated to admit it, but he didn't exactly tan…he just kinda burned and then freckled. Girls had gleefully pointed out the freckles along the bridge of his nose and cheeks for as long as he could remember―he even had a few memories of his mom playfully tapping or running her finger over them, like she was playing connect-the-dots. So, he and the sun weren't exactly buddies and he tried to avoid it as often as possible.

However, Sophie needed the lessons and if this was the only time that would work, then he would deal it.

Sophie didn't turn to look at him, opting instead to stare up at the sunny sky instead. Was it serious? Better question, was this a conversation she wanted to have with Dean? "This is bordering on chick-flick…"

Dean shrugged, knowing that Sophie would feel the motion even if she couldn't see it. "I'm making an exception; don't expect it to last long."

"I don't know," Sophie finally answered. "It's just a few dates; it isn't like we're planning a wedding. I do like him though."

"Oh," Dean responded lamely. He wondered if this was how Sophie felt when he went on a date with Alex. He doubted it—she was probably just annoyed that he took out her friend. This was just uncomfortable.

"Oh?" Sophie repeated, her brow furrowing in confusion.

Dean nodded, "Yeah, it's usually what people say when they don't have anything else to add," he clarified as he pulled himself to his feet. "Come on, we have some more to go through."

* * *

"You're ridiculous," Sam observed, glancing up from his book at his pacing older brother.

"What?" Dean asked defensively, barely sparing a look over his shoulder. It was Friday night and Sophie had announced that morning that Matt was taking her out to the movies. Instantly, Bobby raised an objection, telling Sophie that it was too short notice, but it hadn't taken her long to wear him down. He swore she was taking "Puppy-Dog Eyes 101" from Sam.

Dean was depending on Bobby to put his foot down, but when he caved, Dean stepped in and tried to convince her that she should stay because they didn't know how much longer they would be at Bobby's. Their dad was almost done using Bobby's books and had agreed to stay until Dean could teach Sophie a few self-defense moves at Bobby's request.

However, Dean's argument fell flat when Sophie pointed out that Dean went on dates all the time while they were staying there. So, Dean insisted that he at least got to meet Matt.

…That of course went over about as well as Sam declaring that he wanted to take up ballet would.

There was no way that Sophie was going to subject Matt to Dean. If she was unsure about what they were doing, having him meet Dean would certainly solidify it…he would never come around her again. Dean would do everything in his power to scare him, just for kicks.

Dean took Sophie's protests in stride and nodded in the appropriate places, his features schooled into a pleasant blankness that he adopted when his dad was questioning someone on a case.

Finally, when all of her points had been made, Sophie thought she had gotten through to him when he said, "You're right."

She smiled victoriously.

"But I'm still going to meet him."

The old hardwood floors of Bobby's living room creaked as Sophie stomped over them, the heels of her feet slamming into the ground with every step. The sound dimmed as she hit the linoleum in the kitchen and pulled up to a stop in front of John, one arm flung out behind her in Dean's general direction. "Make him stay away later tonight."

Apparently she forgot that she was dealing with Winchesters because John just smiled at her, "Okay. Dean, stay away from the door later tonight, I'll answer it."

Sophie threw her hands up in the air and spun around, "Forget it! I give up!"

* * *

After an appropriate amount of time locked in her room, Sophie moved into the upstairs bathroom to get ready. The boys couldn't figure out what she was doing up there, but it couldn't possibly take that long to put clothes on.

Downstairs, Bobby and John disappeared into his study to research and Sam and Dean had turned on the tv to watch the football game. It didn't take long before Dean was up walking around, with the excuse of needing to stretch his legs. However, the constant glances out the window gave him away.

"It isn't like I'm being irrational, Bobby doesn't trust him either, and doesn't that mean something?" Dean asked, trying to justify his actions.

Sam scoffed, "It's Sophie. Bobby would trust you with a gun at his back, protecting him against a monster that was trying to chew his face off and he _still_ wouldn't trust you with Sophie."

"He knows I wouldn't do anything to her," Dean argued, frowning at the implication. Even the thought that he would do something to Sophie made him feel sick.

"Physically, no, but emotionally?" Sam left it as a question.

"I wouldn't," Dean was less sure this time. He certainly wouldn't mean to hurt her, but it wasn't like he had any experience in anything other than leaving. Hell, he almost scraped their friendship when he found out she was going to college…that wasn't exactly normal…he shook his head sharply to remove the wayward thoughts from his head. "That doesn't matter; this isn't about me and Sophie, it's about Mark."

"Matt," Sam corrected, knowing that Dean had gotten his name wrong on purpose―their dad had trained them to memorize names, it was important when remembering aliases or talking to new people.

He thought he might know why Dean was throwing such a fit about Sophie going on a date, but he wasn't going to mention it since he wanted to keep his shampoo Nair free. That didn't mean he couldn't tease his brother a little though, "So, you admit there is a you and Sophie."

Sam barely managed to avoid the book that was thrown at him.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop."

"Good! Now shut up, he's here."

* * *

The sound of the door being knocked on echoed through the house, hitting Sophie like a death knoll. Matt was early by about fifteen minutes, ten minutes earlier than she had planned for in order to bodily shove Dean away from the door and make it so that Matt didn't have to deal with him.

In a panic, Sophie grabbed her shoes and sprinted down the stairs, yelling as she took them two at a time, "I've got it!"

"Too late," John mumbled as she passed him and Bobby exiting the study.

Sophie couldn't stop herself as she slid into Dean, her feet sliding along the hardwood. Dean instinctively reached up to steady her and she took the opportunity to push him away from the door and address Matt, "Ready? Good, let's go."

"Hold on a second, I was just saying hi to Matt and Sammy hasn't gotten a chance to meet him either," Dean said, his tone warm, but his smile more predatory than anything.

"It's Sam," Sam called from his spot on the couch.

"Don't listen to him, he's just grumpy because he didn't have his nap today," Dean explained. "You should come in, have a soda."

"We should really be going, the movie's gonna start soon," Matt told him, confused about why Sophie was digging her elbow into Dean's side.

Dean nodded knowingly and then asked in fake interest, "What movie are you guys going to see? Perhaps Sam and I could head into town with you; it's been a while since we've seen a movie."

Sam shook his head, "I don't wanna see a movie." He wasn't going to play into Dean's plan to mess with Sophie's night. What did he care if she went on a date? Bobby was letting her go and if she could convince him that Matt wasn't a bad person, then he was probably just fine―A little boring if the khaki pants were anything to judge him by, but not bad.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Sophie ground out. She didn't wait for an answer, but wrapped a hand around Dean's upper arm and lead him into the kitchen, away from curious gazes that followed them.

"What do you think you're doing?" She asked, releasing her hold and giving him a light shove in frustration.

"Saving you from the most boring date ever?!" Dean answered loudly. "Have you seen that guy? He's wearing khaki for Christ's sake!"

Sophie nearly growled at him and hissed, "First, be quiet! Second, I happen to like him. So he wears khaki, big deal! I know this may sound strange to you, but not every girl falls head over heels for the tough guy in leather get-up."

"Actually," Dean started.

"No, don't make this into one of your jokes!" Sophie ordered, stabbing a finger into his chest. "I'm going out tonight and you're going to be a normal human being about it."

Dean went from stubborn teenager to petulant child in two seconds flat, "Whatever, go with him if you want to."

"I do," Sophie confirmed, walking around Dean because he had planted his body like a statue. She was a few steps from the living room when Dean spoke up.

"If he hurts you, I'll rip his arms off and beat him with them."

A warm smile slid onto Sophie's face. She was too stubborn to not go out with Matt because Dean threw a fit, but she knew that if she went out while he was upset with her, her night would be crappy. Spinning around, she hurried back around and quickly threw her arms around his neck before he could protest. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't."

"Okay, get off me," Dean demanded lightly, shifting his shoulders around, "I've already reached my chick-flick quota for the year."

Sophie shook her head and held on for a bit longer, finally releasing him when he looked honestly uncomfortable―a whole five seconds. "Always the guy," she told him.

Moving towards the living room again, she turned and walked backwards, catching Dean's gaze as she did, "Training tomorrow?"

"Of course," Dean confirmed. "And since it's the weekend, expect an early wake-up call."

"Joy," Sophie said with a roll of her eyes, "I can't wait."

* * *

After the movie, Sophie let Matt convince her to go and grab dessert, so it was after curfew when she got back to the salvage yard. With sneaking in undetected being her main priority, she missed that the shiny black car that had sat along the house for the past three weeks was missing. It wasn't until she woke up around ten to the bright sun streaming through her curtains that she realized John had decided to move on last night and she had missed her chance to say goodbye Sam and Dean.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thanks for the comments and all that! I've tried for a few days to get this out, but I couldn't get it right. I think I'm having difficulties because I know where I want the story to go, but I have to build it up to get there and I've never been an extremely patient person. That being said please let me know if you feel like this is lacking in forward momentum. You may have noticed that I like to jump forward in time a bit (weeks, months); that is partly due to the Winchester's lifestyle and partly because I have difficulties writing day to day (see the impatient side of me). Summer for Sophie and the Winchester's is coming up though, so expect less jumping!**

**Please let me know what you all think! I don't usually write OCs because I fear writing a Mary-Sue; so, if you could drop me a line, it would definitely encourage my writing...which is not meant to be blackmail. **

* * *

Bobby's mornings used to be nice—they used to be quiet and predictable. He'd wake up, ease himself out of bed, and indulge in a few cups of coffee while he flipped through some newspapers, or worked on a car…easy, simple.

Since Sophie had come to live with him, every morning was different. Thankfully, he had learned how to tell what kind of day it was going to be based on the way the way the footsteps echoed through the old ceiling. If her footsteps were soft, Bobby knew that Sophie would wander downstairs all smiles, maybe even offer to make breakfast. If they were sharp rebounding raps against the hardwood, then he knew he was in for a whirlwind of teenage girl emotions. And despite the fact that she had lived with him for a while, he was still defenseless in the face of them.

Today sounded like it was going to be one of those days that he closed his eyes, held on tight and just maybe he would be able to get through it.

His thoughts were confirmed when Sophie shut her bedroom door with a crash and stomped down the creaky stairs.

"Good mornin'," he greeted, refusing to acknowledge her mood as she entered the kitchen.

"Hmph," Sophie yanked a chair out, scraping it noisily along the ground.

Bobby barely won the fight to withhold his sigh, "How was the movie?"

He didn't really want to know. He was perfectly content with being in the dark about any current and future dates that Sophie went on—so long as she made it home on time, didn't end up heartbroken, and he didn't end up being called "Grandpa Bobby".

But, despite his personal comfort being on the line, he had promised her when she first came to live with him that he was always willing to talk.

"Do you really wanna know?" Sophie rolled her head to look at Bobby, who was leaning against the counter sipping on his coffee. A shrug relayed Bobby's true opinion, but Sophie understood what he was doing and smiled lightly, "It went fine."

"Good," Bobby guessed—A nunnery was still an appealing idea…just in case. "What's your plan for today?"

Belatedly, he thought that he probably should have asked a different question.

"Well, it was going to be working with Dean," Sophie threw out sullenly.

Bobby nodded, it was better to give the pretense of agreeing before he got to the real meat of the conversation. "Well, John found a job and wanted to get some miles in as soon as possible."

Meaning, John finished researching a case and now that he knew how to kill it, he didn't want to sit around any longer. To ease the sting of their sudden departure, he added, "Dean and Sam wanted to wait until morning, but you know how John gets when he's ready to leave."

Sophie huffed, "Yeah, he becomes an ass."

"Sophie!" Bobby chastised sharply. He didn't disagree, but he didn't want her to start thinking she could say those things—especially since he knew that Sam and Dean's being at the house was dependent on John's mood. Sure, Bobby had the best books, had the most knowledge, but John could easily decide that it was worth the extra effort to find someone else if every time he stopped by he was greeted with even more teenage drama than he was used to.

"What? You know it's true," Sophie caught her stride. "And just what kinds of jobs require that he hauls Sam and Dean around the country? That has to be illegal or something! How many schools have they gone to this year alone?"

Bobby took a deep breath; these arguments had happened more often lately. He supposed he should have been grateful—Sophie's focus on the Winchester's lifestyle kept her from looking too closely at the types of side-work he did. However, the questions were no easier to answer because he certainly wasn't going to tell her the truth. She would either think he was crazy or worse, want to help. "I get where you're coming from, but it ain't up to you to decide what's best."

"I know you agree with me," Sophie declared. "I'm not blind—I can see that you worry about them! You're always…I don't know, relieved when they show up, even more when they stay. For the first few nights they're here, you watch Dean like you're afraid he's going to randomly flip the table over and start rampaging through the house. You treat Sam with kid gloves—entertaining any geeky conversation he wants to drag you into!"

Apparently Sophie had put more thought into this than he knew…and she was far more observant than he'd been giving her credit for. If she had picked up on his shift in behavior, then it was almost guaranteed that the boys had as well. He would just have to be more careful from now on. "Sophie…"

"Why can't you just let them stay here while John's working?" Sophie almost begged. She was tired of watching them leave, or in this case, having them disappear in the middle of the night. Sam was more vocal about it, but she was sure both of them preferred to stay at Bobby's, to have some sense of normalcy.

Bobby lost the battle and sighed. If he could swing it, the boys would never leave—they'd always have a room upstairs, they would be getting into fights, breaking lamps, being general pains in his ass. But, unless it was particularly dangerous, and for Dean those types of hunts were diminishing, John wanted his boys with him learning the trade. "He's their dad, it's his decision."

Sophie blinked rapidly, ready to claim that she had something in her eye―not that the situation made her so frustrated that crying seemed like the only option. When she finally had control of her wayward tear ducts, Sophie softly declared, "Yeah? Well, his decisions suck."

* * *

The shrill ring of her cell phone cut through the loud music and laughter of semi-drunken teenagers at the last bonfire of the year. Sophie wasn't planning on going, but Matt had wanted to take her to celebrate her taking the SATs. Pulling the phone from her pocket, Sophie quickly motioned to Matt with it and stepped away from the warmth and brightness of the roaring fire so she might be able to hear.

"Hello?" She questioned the block number eagerly, knowing from experience that it was either a telemarketer or Dean…the latter being the more likely.

"Hey, Soph," Dean greeted, his voice rougher than normal.

"Dean, where the hell have you been?! I've tried to call you for weeks," Sophie asked bordering between anger and concern.

Dean pulled the phone away from his ear and looked around the crappy motel they had pulled into for the night. His dad managed to sit still long enough for Sammy to stitch up his side and then he was out the door with hasty explanation thrown over his shoulder of hitting the bar down the street. It was nearing the end of October, so he wasn't all that surprised by his dad's disappearing act, but still…he had hoped that he might have stuck around for a few minutes to make sure that him and Sam were okay.

The hunt their dad had found and researched at Bobby's had led them into the wildness for the past three weeks. Three weeks of tracking, crawling through brambles, and trying to keep dry…

Damn it, he hated camping.

All of that also meant no cell signal. The first chance he got, Dean flipped on his phone and had seen the evidence of Sophie's calls. His voicemail inbox was full—mostly from Sophie, some from Bobby, each getting progressively more concerned. As much as he would've preferred to wait until morning, he knew that he had to call and reassure them otherwise the guilt from making them worry would keep him from falling asleep.

"Where are you?" He questioned, avoiding her original question all together. Judging from the background noise, she was nowhere near the salvage yard.

"You're avoiding my question," Sophie pointed out, but answered his question anyways, "Matt took me the fall bonfire to celebrate taking the SATs."

Dean lightly smacked the phone against his forehead and winced when he hit a bruise―he should probably avoid doing that again. He had completely forgot about Sophie's test. To be fair, he was a bit busy; but still, it was a big deal for her and he should've remembered. "Sorry I forgot," he said weakly. "How'd it go?"

Sophie shrugged and then turned the motion into words, "Okay, I guess. I'll find out soon enough. Hopefully I did well enough this time around that I won't have to do it again."

"Wait, you can take it again?" Dean asked in confusion. The way things were looking, he'd be lucky if he graduated high school―worrying about college tests? Not really his problem. His only goal education wise was to keep Sammy in school; the kid was far too smart to end up like him.

"Uh huh," Sophie replied. Then, she continued, mentioning the topic she never chose to bring up with Dean: the possibility of him going to college. She didn't avoid it because she thought he couldn't do it; she avoided it because she thought that _he_ didn't believe he could. "You know, you could always take it."

"Me and college? I don't think so, Sweetheart," Dean replied with a grim chuckle, tacking on the endearment that he knew made her uncomfortable so hopefully she'd drop it.

"You don't have to do that, you know," Sophie told him, stepping further away from the party-goers.

"Do what?" Dean prodded at the threadbare blanket he was sitting on top of until his finger popped through the fabric.

"Make yourself seem like less than you are," Sophie said earnestly.

"I'm not Sam, Sophie. One, I'm not a girl; two, I don't need you to tell me that I'm special" Dean tried for joking, but when he didn't get a response from Sophie he pushed on. "Soph, I just don't get school the way you guys do and that's fine―I'm fine with it."

"And Sam and I don't get cars or people the way _you_ do." Sophie insisted, determined to make Dean understand. "There are different kinds of intelligence, Dean. Just because you don't like to sit in class and take notes doesn't mean that you are worth less."

The phone was silent enough that Sophie could feel Dean's discomfort creeping through. Finally, she decided that now wasn't the time to try and convince Dean that his views of himself were wrong; she would save it for a rainy day when she could tie him to a chair and beat him senseless until he agreed with her.

"You never answered my question," she reminded him of the beginning of their conversation in order to change the topic.

"We've been…camping," Dean used the normally tame activity involving warm fires and s'mores to describe the hellish three weeks of freezing cold and monster hunting.

"Camping?" Sophie asked with slight disdain. The chorus of cheers in the background offhandedly reminded her that she was supposed to be enjoying a party, but now that she finally had Dean on the phone, she was unwilling to lose the contact.

"Yeah, I hate camping," Dean told her, distracted by Sam as he came over and leaned over the bed. Putting a hand over the speaker, Dean placed his foot on Sam's stomach and pushed him away before he could tell Dean that he wanted to check him out again. "I'm fine," he whispered.

"Hmph," Sam huffed, grabbing up some cleanish clothes from his duffel, "I'm showering."

"Don't use all the hot water," Dean called after his brother.

"How's Sam?" Sophie asked when she heard that his brother was in the room with him.

"He's…Sammy," Dean said, his lips turning down slightly. "He and dad have been going at it more and more lately."

Sophie frowned, knowing that if Dean was willing to talk about it, it was getting pretty bad. Dean was like Bobby in the way that he was willing to pretend everything was okay until it couldn't be avoided any longer.

"Hey, Sophie!" Matt shouted at her and gestured for her to rejoin the party.

"S'That Mark?" Dean asked a bit tetchily.

"Matt," Sophie corrected automatically, "and yeah."

"You should get back to the party," Dean told her, "it sounds like more fun than listening to me complain all night."

"Psh, listening to complain is the new national pastime," Sophie said, holding up a hand to tell Matt she needed another minute.

"Seriously, go. Have fun," he ordered. "Sam just got outta the shower, so I'm going to take my turn before dad gets back and uses up all the hot water."

Dean purposefully left out the part about how his dad wouldn't be getting back until the morning at the very earliest―Telling her that Sam and Dad were fighting was fine, families fought. However, dads weren't supposed to pack you around the country, enlist your help to fight monsters and then take off to reacquaint themselves with their good friends, Jim, Jack, and Jose. Not to mention, he could already tell that she worried about him and Sam, why give her another reason?

"Are you sure?" she asked hesitantly. "Because for some god unknown reason, I actually like talking to you and wouldn't mind chatting a bit more."

"Sophie, go away! I'm hanging up now."

"Fine," Sophie relented, but threw in a caveat, "but you've gotta call tomorrow when we can really talk."

"You're such a girl," Dean accused, sighing dramatically into the phone. "Okay, I'll call."

"Promise?" Sophie had gone too long without a call―she wasn't going to chance it. Besides, Dean never broke his promises.

"Good god, are you serious?" Dean groaned, but was smiling anyways.

"Fine. I, Dean, promise you, Sophie, that I'll call you tomorrow afternoon so that you, Sophie, can ask me a hundred questions about what I've been up to, and I, Dean, can give you a mind-numbing account of hiking through mud. Sound good?"

"Perfect," Sophie agreed brightly. "I'll talk to you tomorrow then."

Dean chuckled, "Have fun, don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Hmm, I'll try to not get arrested," Sophie teased.

"Night, Soph."

"Good night, Dean."

* * *

**~Beginning of February~**

Dean spun his phone around in his hands as he absent-mindedly stared out the window—watching the warm desert sands slowly morphing into the lush forests of Northern California.

He wanted to call Sophie, but the last time he had, she got upset with him…she said concerned, he heard disappointed.

It was weeks after he made the decision and Sam had blabbed it to her, that Dean finally talked to Sophie about dropping out of high school.

The decision came when they enrolled in school in Lovington, Arizona and Dean realized just how far behind he had fallen. Sam, however, through sheer stubbornness and the fact that he still stayed home on a lot of hunts, had managed to actually get ahead of his class.

He tried for a few days, but he just wasn't getting it and somehow, Dean didn't think that hunting werewolves counted as a valid excuse for a senior not knowing the Bill of Rights. So, he decided that he was done with it all. Done going through the motions of showing up when the teachers decided within the first five minutes that he wasn't worth the extra effort. Done wasting his time staring out the windows when he could be doing something useful, something that kept people safe.

Sam had taken his announcement with arguments about how important school was—his dad received the news with a nod of seeming approval and an order to clean the weapons.

He knew Sam had immediately gone and called Sophie with the hope that she could convince him to return to school, but the next time she called, he still answered it.

And immediately regretted it.

It wasn't the first thing out of her mouth, she knew him better than that; but, it didn't take long before she was trying to get him to see the benefits of graduating high school. And he couldn't very well tell her that he already knew what he would be doing with his future and that it didn't need a diploma.

So, he listened in silence until he ended the call with a curt, "Sophie, I've gotta go, I'll call ya."

Nineteen days later and he was still screening her calls―Sam's bitch face getting progressively worse each time he pushed the ignore button…even his dad was starting to get annoyed.

Dean's unwillingness to talk to Sophie again made the mood in the car so tense that when they pulled into the motel, each of them got out in silence and picked a spot in the room as far from each other as they could get. Dean lasted a few hours before he rose to take a shower―not because he especially wanted to have lukewarm water drizzle down on him in a lame attempt at water pressure, but because he couldn't take the electrically charged energy in the room anymore.

As he was slipping a pair of sweats over his hips, he heard his phone ring in the main room, remembering too late that he had set it on the table near the bed. Rushing over to the door, he threw it open in time to see his dad flip the phone open and gruffly greet, "Hi Sophie, here he is."

His dad tossed him the phone from across the room and Dean was so busy staring at him in angry disbelief that he fumbled to catch it.

"Dean?" He heard Sophie ask.

Pursing his lips, Dean reluctantly put the phone up to his ear and walked out into the chilly night's air, throwing one last glare at his dad before he shut the door behind him. "Hi."

"I was beginning to think that you were ignoring me," Sophie provided, a bit accusingly and more than a little hurt.

"Nah, just been busy," Dean lied.

Sophie shook her head, knowing from Sam that it was a lie, but she understood where it came from. "Before we say anything else, I just wanted to let you know that I think you're making a mistake…"

"Soph…"

"Wait," Sophie demanded. "I think you're making a mistake, but it isn't my decision to make and it isn't going to change what I think of you. You're still Dean….so basically, you're annoying, over-protective, and eat like a pig."

Sophie waited long enough for her declaration to sink in and then plowed on. "So, Sam mentioned this girl he met in the library…"

* * *

**Thoughts? **


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! This one took a couple of days longer than planned because editing was slow, but I hope you all like it. As always, please let me know what you think.

* * *

"I've never understood why everyone makes a big deal out of it," Dean declared, picking up Mr. Bunny and flopping down on Sophie's bed. Looking around, he settled for placing Mr. Bunny on his chest and then lifting his ears up and down as if they were wings.

"You're a guy―not to mention, you're Dean, so you _really _wouldn't," Sophie told him, waiting for her bed to stop moving before she continued to swipe the bright red nail polish on her toes, her tongue peeking out slightly in concentration. "It's an age-old tradition."

"If by age-old, you mean within the past century and by tradition you mean getting so drunk that you end up puking on your date before the night ends in some sweaty, fumbling, poor excuse for sex, then sure…tradition," Dean said, moving from Mr. Bunny's ears to stare into his soul-less plastic eyes.

"Huh," Sophie said, pausing the brush and smiling when she caught Dean poking Mr. Bunny's eyes. "I guess prom wouldn't be that appealing to you…that sounds like just another Saturday for you," she teased.

Dean lifted Mr. Bunny like he was going to throw him at Sophie, but at her warning glare, he set him back down on his chest and settled for sticking his tongue out at her.

"Oh, that's mature," Sophie said, switching feet. "It's not like I'm asking you to take me, so you can just keep your opinions to yourself."

"I'm just saying I don't understand the need to spend a bunch of money on a dress you're gonna wear once, get all dressed up, go to a dance, be miserable for a few hours, and then come home."

"Again, I'm not asking you to take me, so shut your lips," Sophie nudged his leg with the bottom of her foot. She squeaked when Dean caught it in his hand and tried to pull it back before he could do anything. "Don't mess them up! I don't have enough time to redo them!"

Dean took a quick look at the clock sitting on Sophie's nightstand, "You do realize that you have over three hours, right?"

"I have a lot of stuff to do and I'm not exactly good at this whole girly thing," Sophie said, almost overlooking the fact that her toes were wet when Dean nodded solemnly in agreement. "Okay, out," she demanded, reclaiming her foot from Dean's hand without any fight. "You're too distracting and you need to leave."

"You're kicking me out?" Dean asked indignantly, his brow furrowing in confusion. "We came all this way to see you and you're giving up the opportunity to hang out with me? What am I supposed to do?"

Sophie shook her head―well aware that Dean was trying to guilt her into letting him stay. "Yep, that's exactly what I'm doing. You guys have been here almost a week, all I'm asking for is the next five to seven hours without any snide comments or annoyances. Then, I promise that the moment I'm home, you can bombard me with questions and if you were right, I'll admit it."

Sophie pointed to the door, "Now, out."

Dean considered being difficult and continuing to lay on the bed, but he didn't want Sophie to be mad at him for the rest of the time they were at Bobby's―so he finally relented and rolled off the bed, placing Mr. Bunny on her pillows. "Fine, I can see when I'm not wanted."

Sophie scoffed at his dramatics, "Oh, you're such the victim."

Dean did an about-face and walked back over to the bed and quickly captured Sophie's hands and pinned her upper body down so she couldn't stop him. Sophie, sensing Dean's intentions, tried to kick her way out of Dean's hold.

"Don't you dare!" Sophie shrieked.

Chuckling, Dean ignored Sophie's demands and pressed his thumb into her big toe. He retreated, hopping as far from the bed as he could, laughing at the sight of his thumb print imprinted into her nail polish.

"Damn it, Dean!" Sophie shouted, sitting up and inspecting the damage. A low growl escaped her throat and Sophie reached up, grabbed Mr. Bunny and hurled it at Dean.

Dean gasped in mock dismay as he caught Mr. Bunny against him. He held the stuffed animal out, his eyes wide, "I can't believe you just threw Mr. Bunny!"

"Out!" She picked up a pillow and lifted it towards him.

"Hmph, fine," he pointed at her with Mr. Bunny, "But I'm taking him with me, for his own protection." Dean curled Mr. Bunny into his chest and pet him on top of the head, sending Sophie a dirty look as he left the room.

* * *

Sam sighed as yet another wad of paper was thrown at him―after Sophie kicked Dean out of her room, Dean had wandered around the house claiming he was bored. Partially to get Dean to learn something, and mostly to shut him up, Bobby had put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him down into a chair, dropping an old book in front of him and told him to get translating. This effectively got him out of Bobby's hair and right into Sam's like bubble gum gone wrong.

Sam had been sitting at the table working on his algebra that was due after they got back from their grandma's funeral—their 25th grandma. The work was going quickly until Dean had sat down across from him. In true Dean fashion, he only managed to focus for all of a half an hour before he began to fold pieces of paper into mini-footballs and started flicking them at Sam's head.

"Seriously?" he asked in exasperation, smacking away the next football before it could hit him. "What are you? Five?"

"Five year-olds wouldn't have this kind of aim," Dean claimed, loosing another football.

"Dean, keep it up and I'm gonna kick your ass," Sam threatened, thinking belatedly that the threat was probably not a good one to make.

"I'd like to see you try, Short-stack," Dean challenged, his smirk firmly affixed on his face as he flicked his last football.

Sam lunged across the table with no warning, knocking off the algebra he had been attempting to work on, as well as the book that Dean was supposed to be translating. Dean was kind of surprised that Sam had reacted so quickly; normally it took a few more flicks before his brother blew up. Unprepared, the chair that Dean had been leaning back in toppled over and Sam fell with a thump on Dean's stomach, knocking the air out of him and giving Sam the momentary advantage.

He may have been shorter and smaller than Dean, but Sam was no slouch—he had been trained by the same man and had spent years wrestling with his brother. So, it was no surprise that Sam maintained his upper-hand for a few moments. It was made even easier because he knew that his brother wouldn't intentionally and seriously injure him—Dean didn't have those same reassurances.

But…Sam also was four years behind Dean and was always susceptible to the older brother headlock. Dean was just about to give Sam a noogie when they heard Bobby answering the door.

"Get off me," Dean ordered, shoving Sam aside and leaping to his feet. They both made their way into the living room to see Bobby step aside and allowed Matt to come in. Dean immediately chuckled when he saw Matt—he was right, prom did make people look ridiculous. "Milo," he greeted, shifting his shoulders around to adjust his shirt from his scuffle with Sam.

"Matt," he corrected tensely. His interactions with Dean may have been limited, but Matt was sure that he didn't like the guy. First, he never got his name right―how hard was it to remember, Matt? Second, he could tell that Dean didn't like him; who really wanted to try and be nice to people who hated them. Third, and most importantly, Sophie was always talking about him―Dean taught me this, Dean said that…it was annoying. He never knew that he would be dating Sophie _and _Dean.

"Matt," Dean amended, "My bad."

Sam tried to discretely nudge Dean with his elbow but failed when Dean shot him a look and loudly asked, "What was that for?!"

Sam rolled his eyes and sent Matt a slightly apologetic smile and nodded his head, "Hey, Matt."

"Hey, Sam." Sam was better―Sophie talked about him a lot as well, but…it was different.

Bobby shook his head at the teenage boy posturing that was going on; it was better than watching the nature channel.

"Dean, you wanna go and tell Sophie that Matt's here?" He ordered more than asked.

Dean grimaced and then nodded, "Sure thing."

Taking the stairs two at a time, Dean pounded on Sophie's door, making sure that his voice would carry downstairs, "Sophie! Marcus is here!"

No answer came through her door, so he knocked again, but this time spoke for her benefit only, "Soph? You alive in there?"

This time, the door opened enough for Sophie's arm to reach out and grab Dean by the front of the shirt, dragging him into her room and shutting the door behind them.

"I need your help," she revealed, spinning around so that her back was facing him.

The subsequent gulp was louder than Dean cared to admit when he was presented with the open back of Sophie's dress―the black lace of her strapless bra on display against the her smooth back.

"Um…"he stalled lamely, his tongue embarrassingly thick in his mouth. He swallowed again and fought to regain control of his vocal cords. "Well, I'm glad to see you've done most of the work, but if you wanted me, all you had to do was ask, I'd be glad to help you out of your dress."

Jokes…jokes were always the way to go when he was uncomfortable.

"Shut up," she hissed, panic coating her voice. "The zipper's stuck."

"And?" ….back to being lame, he thought as he stared at the base of the zipper.

"And fix it!" It may have been a dress, but he was Dean—Sophie knew that Dean would be able to fix it, it was what he did. When she didn't feel any movement, Sophie looked over her shoulder in time to see Dean's eyes snap up. Rolling her eyes in an unintentional imitation of Sam, Sophie gestured towards the zipper. "Please? I _really_ don't want Bobby doing this and I think Sam might have a heart attack if I ask him."

Dean cleared his head with a deep breath and hesitantly grabbed the zipper.

Sophie felt her face flush as Dean's callused fingers occasionally hit her back as he struggled to pull the zipper up—okay, not just her face—her scalp, her ears, her chest…she felt like she was getting hives.

Dean's lips were pressed firmly together, until he grinned in triumph as the zipper finally gave and he was able to slide it up.

"Thank god," Sophie breathed out, stepping away from him.

"Thanks, but you can just call me Dean," he joked, but it fell flat as he took Sophie in. He didn't think had ever seen her in a skirt, let alone a full length gown. It surprised him that he was unable to say anything—few things in life actually had the ability to take words away from Dean Winchester.

"So…how do I look?" Sophie asked self-consciously, smoothing the front of her dress down. She was busy avoiding Dean's eyes but when she finally met them, her blush made a reappearance.

"You look amazing," Dean told her honestly. Then, as if he realized he said too much, he went on to add, "You know…for you."

Sophie smiled, much more comfortable with the turn in Dean's compliment—that was how they were supposed to interact, not with honest, nice compliments. "Thanks, I think."

"Yeah, whatever," Dean waved the conversation off, busy fighting his own very unwanted blush. "Well, you should probably get down there."

"Yeah…" Sophie grabbed her small clutch that she was undoubtedly going to lose by the end of the night and started for the door. "You and Sam are going to be here when I get back right?"

"Of course," Dean promised and then waved his hand towards the door, "Go, be young, be stupid."

* * *

The tv was on some infomercial that Dean had stared at for the past hour, not bothering to feign interest in it. Sam was curled up on the couch passed out and Bobby had retreated to his room a little earlier, no longer able to stay up, but mostly unconcerned about Sophie. He trusted that she would do the right thing or would call them if she needed to—that or he had no qualms about skinning Matt alive.

However, Dean couldn't get himself to relax. And besides, Sophie had promised that she would tell him about the dance when she got home. Not that he really cared about the dance as a whole, but he did hope she had a good time.

The product they were hocking was just changing over to one that was supposed to combat hair loss when his phone rang. Dean instantly scrambled for it, pressing the answer button before the name could pop up. His ears were immediately assaulted by bad music and loud conversations.

"Sophie!?" He asked urgently. There could only be a few reasons why she would be calling him.

"Dean? Can you come pick me up?" Sophie asked, her voice tight.

"Of course, where are you?" Dean agreed quickly, his stomach turning over at the thought that something had happened to her.

Sophie rattled off the address, relief pouring through her now that she knew Dean was on his way.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked as he grabbed his jacket and quietly let himself out of the house. He would call Bobby on the way so that he didn't worry, but he wanted to get there without the delay it would take to wake him up.

"Yeah, I'm fine, could you just hurry?" Sophie pleaded when another voice came over the line.

"Is that Dean? Of course it's Dean. It's always Dean!"

"Soph," Dean's jaw was clenched, but he forced his voice to come out calm. "I'll be there in a few. Go and find some friends or lock yourself in a bathroom."

* * *

Humans may think themselves on the top of the food chain and that nothing could take them down. And in normal settings, that was probably true. But, there was something—some hold out from a time before lights and buildings, when being afraid of the dark was simply survival, not something to be mocked. Every once in a while, that instinct kicked in: a feeling that someone is watching you or your skin prickling, telling you that something was wrong. Some people would scoff at it and tell themselves they were just being silly; others admitted that perhaps they should move away from the source of their unease.

This instinct caused the crowds of fancy dressed teens to part as Dean stormed through the house, his stride not hesitating until he reached the bathroom where Matt was yelling through the door.

"God damn it, Sophie! Open the door, I just want to talk!" Matt hit the door with his fist. He wasn't a violent person and he wasn't going to do anything to her, he just wanted to talk. Earlier she had balked at the idea of going to the after-party, saying that she had told Dean she would go home and hang out. It was the same story as always and it pissed him off; so, after he convinced her to go to the party, he readily accepted the drink that was shoved into his hand, and the drink after that, and the one after that. He thought with a few drinks in him, he would be able to loosen up and have fun, but instead it had just increased his frustration with Sophie who was obviously bored and kept checking her phone. Finally, when she told him that he had drank too much and she was going to call Dean to come and pick her up, he threw the beer bottle in his hand at the wall, too far gone to care that he scared her.

She didn't wait around to hear his arguments, but smashed the buttons on her phone and called Dean, more than ready to leave the party she didn't want to go to in the first place.

Which led Dean to the decision he was facing as he got closer to the bathroom. His dad taught him that fights drew unwanted attention, but that lesson couldn't stop him as he called out, "Hey, Matt!"

"About time you got my name right, asshole," Matt said, turning around to face the source of his anger. He didn't get a chance to say anything else because Dean already had his arm pulled back and punched him in the eye. Matt flew back into the bathroom door clutching his face, everyone around them staring in surprise at the turn of events.

Dean shoved him aside and knocked on the door, "Soph, it's me!"

The lock clicked over and the door was opened, revealing a puffy eyed Sophie. She glanced down at Matt and frowned, unsure if she was glad or not that Dean had punched him.

"Soph?" Dean's concerned tone brought her back to the point at hand. "Let's get out of here," Dean suggested, grabbing her hand in his and pulled her behind him—the crowds either parting for them or being shouldered out of the way by Dean.

They made it to the car when Matt broke from the house, stumbling either because of the punch or the drinks. He was followed by a few of their friends, but ignored their attempts to calm him.

"Sophie!" He yelled, ignoring the common sense that Dean could easily turn from the door he was holding open for Sophie and hit him again. He even reached for Sophie's arm before it was smacked away by Dean.

"I _will_ hit you again," Dean fairly warned him.

"Screw you," Matt spat out. "This is all your fault anyways!"

Dean's brow furrowed, "It's my fault you're an ass?"

Matt didn't answer him but turned to Sophie and gave her an ultimatum, "If you get in that car with him, we're through."

Sophie's gaze narrowed at the challenge, and made to sit in the car when Matt's hand finally made contact with her arm and roughly pulled her towards him. Before Dean could react, Sophie let herself stumble into Matt and knocked him off balance, then pulled back quickly and kicked him in the groin, stepping back when he fell on the ground.

She ignored Dean's raised eyebrows and sat in the car. "Can we go?"

Dean snapped the car door shut, making sure to kick Matt in the stomach as he walked around the car and drove away.

Ten minutes later, Dean pulled into an old parking lot and turned the car off, plunging them into silence. He waited a few seconds before he unclicked his seatbelt and shrugged his jacket off, leaning over to pull it over Sophie.

"Thanks," Sophie said softly, tugging her arms through the sleeves and wrapping it around her, taking comfort from the familiar smell and warmth.

"Do I need to go back and kick his ass?" Dean asked, drumming his thumbs awkwardly on the steering wheel.

"No, I'm fine," Sophie told him and shrugged her shoulders a bit.

Dean looked her over—taking note of her red eyes and the hair that had been piled nicely on top of her head now falling down around her shoulders, and then he remembered what Matt had said, that it was his fault. "Sorry if I caused this."

"It wasn't your fault," Sophie insisted.

"I dunno…I could've gone a bit easier than him…maybe called him Matt every once in a while." Dean knew full well that he bothered Matt, but he didn't think it was _that_ bad.

Sophie shook her head. Leave it to Dean to blame himself for something that was not his fault. She didn't know how to explain it to him—explain that Matt had been jealous of him for months. That anytime Sophie would mention Dean or move away to take a call from him, Matt's muscles would tighten and he would make a snarky comment or start an argument with her over how she should remember that was dating him and not Dean. She kept pushing it aside, trying to convince herself that he would get over it. She tried to talk to him and tell him that she did care about him, but that she wasn't going to stop talking to Dean just because he didn't like it. But what she told Dean, "No, Matt is just an ass."

"Can't argue with that," Dean agreed, before smirking slightly. "However, having been on the receiving end of one of your kicks before, I can't help but feel at least a little sorry for the guy."

A huff of laughter escaped Sophie before she could stop it and she leaned over to rest her head on Dean's arm, "Can we go home? My feet hurt, I want to be wearing sweats, and I think there is a tub of ice cream with my name on it."

"Actually…" Dean began, but stopped when Sophie looked up at him.

"You did not eat my ice cream," Sophie said firmly.

Dean reached up and turned the car back on, "So, a quick swing by the mini-mart, home, sweats, and a bad movie—sounds like a plan."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews, favorites and alerts! It always gives me warm, fuzzy feelings when I turn on my computer and see that people like what I am writing. So, here is the next chapter for you. You will notice that it is shorter, but I hope you will like it all the same and will let me know what you think!**

* * *

Sophie was lying in a rare patch of grass in the backyard playing with Cooper when the distinctive rumble of the Impala echoed around the salvage yard. With an enthusiasm that was lacking while she was playing with him, Cooper darted towards the front of the house, recognizing the car as Sophie had and wanting to be the first to greet his favorite floppy haired human.

Jumping to her feet, Sophie dodged the random car parts that littered the yard as she chased after the dog, unable to blame Cooper for his eagerness—if she were a dog, she would probably find the excitement of a teenage boy who didn't have his own dog to dote on far more interesting than herself. Hopping over an old bumper, Sophie reached the front in time to see Cooper circle the Impala in confusion, cocking his head when he couldn't find his boy and only Dean stepped out, a large grin plastered to his face.

"Hey!" Sophie shouted happily, rushing forward to envelope him in a hug that he permitted for the agreed upon three seconds before he started fidgeting. Releasing him, she patted Cooper on the head as he returned to the backyard, his expression one of disappointment―he knew from the beginning that the taller one wasn't a dog person and no matter what he tried, the boy just didn't like him.

Taking a quick peek inside of the car to double check that no one was with him, Sophie asked in confusion, "What are you doing here? And where are Sam and your dad?"

Dean gestured towards the Impala and was unable to hold back, "She's mine."

Sophie blinked slowly, alternating between staring at him and the sleek black car still radiating heat from Dean's trip. "Did you kill your dad?" She asked honestly.

Dean's already wide grin stretched further, "Nope," he popped the p. "Dad bought a truck and gave her to me! Sam can finally stop kneeing me in the back!"

Sophie's face morphed to match Dean's, "That's amazing!"

Dean nodded quickly and then surprised her again, "Go pack a bag."

"Apparently we aren't on the same wavelength today, because I have no idea what you're talking about," Sophie tilted her head.

"Dad and Sam are in Wyoming while Sam finishes up the last few weeks of school, I'm now the owner of a kick ass car, you just graduated, and for some god unknown reason you're heading off for even more school in the fall—pack a bag and get your ass in my car," Dean explained, placing his hands on her shoulders and directing her towards the house.

Sophie laughed, Dean's excitement infecting her. "I have to ask Bobby before I just hop in a car with you and disappear."

Their progression through the house stopped when Bobby stepped out in front of them, halting the Dean propelled momentum. "He already called me and asked. I didn't think you'd object, so I let him keep it a surprise. But, before one pair of socks hits your duffle, there are a few ground rules."

Dean listened in as Bobby listed off an abbreviated version of the rules that he had received two weeks ago.

* * *

"So, your daddy finally did it," Bobby said happily. "Congrats, you deserve her."

"Thanks," Dean's smile could be heard through the phone.

"I'm imaginin' that you wanna talk to Sophie and let her know the good news?" Bobby started to get out of his armchair where he had parked himself to watch the news.

"Actually," Dean got hesitant, "I kinda wanted to ask you something."

Bobby settled back into the chair, his suspicion levels growing, "Shoot."

"Since we got held up and couldn't make it to Sophie's graduation and Sam still has some school left," he paused and then quickly asked, Bobby straining to understand him, "Iwasthinkingthatmaybe,ifit'sokaywithyou,Icouldtak eSophieonaroadtrip?"

Silence. "Huh?" Bobby's brow furrowed as he tried to dissect the question from Dean's ramble.

Dean took a deep breath and forced himself to ask it slower, "Can I take Sophie on a road trip?"

This time there was silence, but not because Bobby hadn't heard the question.

"Bobby?" Dean asked uncertainly.

"You, a teenage boy, wanna take my niece, a teenage girl, on a road trip. Alone." Bobby clarified, positive that he could hear the sound of Dean's swallow over the phone.

"Uh…yeah?"

"And where exactly would you be going?" Bobby asked.

"I haven't planned that far," Dean admitted sheepishly. "I just kinda thought we would start driving and see where we end up."

"So, teenage boy, teenage girl, alone, with no destination…oh yeah, I can't see any way that could go wrong," Bobby drawled sarcastically with an eye roll thrown in.

"It's not like we're gonna end up in Vegas and all of a sudden you're going to be related to a Winchester," Dean defended. "And besides, technically we aren't teenagers anymore―we're both 18, and in the eyes of the U.S. government, legal adults."

"Is that supposed to make me not worry about Vegas?" Bobby asked dryly.

Dean paced the length of the cheap apartment that they had been using as a base for the past three months―giving Sam some time in the same school and allowing them to do short hunting trips in the area. Sam had left for school a few hours earlier and his dad was gone on a hunt, leaving Dean to spend his days thinking of things he would rather be doing—which was how he came up with the Sophie road trip idea. Now, he was determined to convince Bobby to let them go.

"Come on, Bobby. We'd check in everyday, hell we'll call you every hour if you want," Dean nearly pleaded.

Bobby pulled the phone away from his ear and sighed, glaring at the receiver—the boy might've been lacking his brother's puppy dog eyes, but damned if he didn't have the ability to make you agree with him on words alone, "You will check in at least every other day."

"Thanks, Bobby!" The excitement was back.

"Hold your horses; you have to agree to all the rules first. One: no hunting. Anything. I don't care if a werewolf walks in front of your car—you ignore it, get Sophie to safety, and then call me and I'll get it taken care of. Two: no reckless driving. Three: you call every other day or I'll hunt you down and you'll never see that pretty car again. Four: no kissing, no sex, no babies."

Dean chuckled, but managed to keep quiet enough that Bobby didn't stop his list.

"Five: no hunting."

"You said that already," Dean pointed out.

"Yeah, well I'm making sure it sticks in your thick skull," Bobby said gruffly. "Six: no Vegas, no hookers, no marriage."

"Bobby, it's a road trip, not a bachelorette party."

"Seven: keep her safe," Bobby ordered, ignoring Dean's quip. "I mean it, Dean. I don't care if you have to put someone in the ground―I want her back here in one piece."

"Got it," he promised seriously.

"Finally, keep yourself safe. I've noticed you have this martyr thing lately where you like to dive in front of danger like a damn sacrificial lamb, but how about you work on going a few weeks without needin' stitches?"

"Sheesh, are you sure you don't want to round it off to a nice ten? I feel like I should've been writing all of this down," Dean joked rather than agreeing to Bobby's last rule―if it came down between him or Sophie, there wasn't even a question.

"You weren't?" Bobby asked seriously, knowing that his last rule would be ignored. "I guess I'll have to start from the beginning."

"No, no, no, I understand!" Dean amended quickly.

* * *

"Got it?" Dean tuned back in to Sophie eagerly nodding her head. "Good, go get packed before Dean leaves without ya."

An hour later, her bag tossed in the backseat, Sophie let her body sink onto the leather seat with a wave goodbye to her uncle, smiling as Dean turned the key over and the Impala roared to life.

"Okay, rule one, driver picks the music, shot-gun shuts his or her cakehole."

Sophie turned to Dean, her arm resting on the open window sill as they drove down the driveway, "How about, rule one we forget all the rules and just have fun?"

"So…you're all good with the hookers?" Dean asked in teasing seriousness.

"Hookers? Just what kind of rules did Bobby think he needed to give you?"

"Oh, you know, just the standard," Dean told her, his lips tugging upwards at her amused huff of laughter. He pulled to a stop at the end of the driveway and pointed in both directions with a shrug, indicating that Sophie should pick.

A moment later, the rear tires of the Impala kicked up dust and gravel as Dean swung it out of the driveway and officially began their road trip.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: You guys are amazing! Please keep up the lovely comments as they make me insanely happy! Here is the next chapter; I realized I have ignored Bobby, so here he is. The next chapter is already in the works. I am going to be spending a few chapters on Sophie and Dean's trip, so let me know if you guys want to see anything in particular and I'll see if it fits. :D**

* * *

Bobby waved Sophie and Dean off and waited on the front porch until the Impala was nothing more than a black speck in the distance. Suddenly, the solitude hit him and his own breath sounded too loud in his ears. For the past two years, the only time he had the house to himself was when Sophie spent the night with someone. This felt different―maybe it was indicative of how it was going to be once Sophie left for school.

Walking back into the house, his footsteps echoing in the emptiness, he couldn't say he was fond of it.

There was no ah-ha moment―no point in time that he just knew she had become a necessary part of his life. Thinking back, it was probably when he opened the door and saw her standing next to her social worker. Since then, she just fell into place, filling a spot in his life he never knew he wanted, but now that he had it, he didn't want to give it up.

Looking after Sophie was different than the boys though. When John dropped the boys into his life, he immediately accepted them; it didn't take more than a full day before he was willing to jump in front of a bullet for them. However, in the end, he had no real control over their lives―John made sure of that. But, Sophie was _his_ responsibility and if he could say so himself, he didn't do a half bad job the past two years. Sophie graduated from high school, she was heading to college in the fall, she didn't have a kid (one of his biggest fears when she moved in), and she seemed pretty happy most of the time―it was better than his daddy ever did for him and better than he ever thought he could.

That's not to say that they didn't have their rough patches…

Getting her to talk was the first hurdle. With that great start, it could really only get better; but, Bobby hadn't fully realized that with the talking, came the talking back. If it had been Sam or Dean, he would've just slapped them upside the back of the head and told them to knock their crap off―but Sophie wasn't a boy and she wasn't raised the way they were.

To an outside observer, their arguments were probably amusing; Lord knew Jim and Johnny had chuckled over it plenty―to see the grizzly hunter that could cow the surliest hunter into shape, rip his signature hat off his head and smash it into a ball to keep from shaking the teenage girl going toe to toe with him, hands on her hips, arguing that she was going to wear makeup whether he liked it or not, was the most hilarious thing they'd seen in a long time. It was times like that he thought back on her silent months with fondness, but even then, her glares spoke volumes.

Then, like a plague of locusts, came the boys. He would give his right arm to have Sophie take after him in looks, or that it was socially acceptable to beat teenage boys away with a baseball bat. He wasn't too worried about Sophie, but if he thought hard enough, he could remember what being a teenager was like. Not to mention, the teenager he had the most contact with was Dean and he created a far from reassuring picture of teenage hormones. He tried his best to keep his fears from preventing Sophie from making her own mistakes, but it was damn hard when he caught the Miller boy following them around the grocery store.

It was probably impossible to count all the things he did wrong―hovering when she needed space, not asking the right questions, being an obviously horrible option when it came to boy problems. However, there was one thing he could guarantee he got right―letting John drop the boys off when Dean was hurt.

At first, he had been terrified; there were too many things that could go wrong having them all in the same place. Sophie could find out about hunting, Dean could end up treating her like all the other girls in his life, or they could just not like each other. At best, he hoped that they would at least talk to each other; he never expected them to hit it off like they did.

Recognizing that she was hurting the same way he had after the fire, Dean took a completely different approach with Sophie than he normally did with girls. Then, he took it a step further and became her friend, deciding that she was going to get the same protection he gave Sam.

Dean's trust was hard to earn; Bobby found that out when Dean glared at him for picking Sammy up and placing him on top of some stacked phone books, looking adorably intimidating in his Batman pjs. Not many people managed to break passed his initial layer of distrust and even fewer got close enough to be considered worthy of being protected—and that boy's protection was better than having a personal army. It was like he had a danger radar for you and if there was even the slightest blip he would come running, ready to help regardless of any threat to himself.

Some might find it annoying―he often bordered between concerned parent, to older brother, to jealous boyfriend, but Sophie accepted it in stride. It didn't take her long to realize where it came from and how a simple nod or hand on the arm could get Dean to calm down.

Sophie was good for Dean too―she gave him an actual friend.

The Winchester lifestyle was not exactly conducive to friend making. For Sam it was easy, he showed up in a new town and after an hour, just about every family was willing to take him in. Dean didn't have that luxury―he was surly, defensive, sarcastic, and everyone knew that if you messed with Sam Winchester, you'd better be prepared to lose a few teeth. Teachers brushed him off, other teens steered clear, and girls fell for him the second his booted feet crossed the school's threshold, but they'd never consider bringing him home to meet the parents.

And that was what he wanted people to do. His job was to protect Sammy, not make Mrs. Johnson love him. Well, that might be what achieved his goals, but it wasn't what he really wanted. He would never say it, but watching Sammy run off with new friends always felt like a kick in the gut. He told Sammy he didn't mind, that he was going to stay in and clean the weapons, but what else was he going to do? Sam was his go to source of entertainment—they would sneak into movies, go swimming, or just hang out, which always descended into them wrestling around and trying not to break something in their motel room. But, when Sam made friends, it was like Dean became last year's toy—until Sophie came along.

Suddenly, Dean had someone to call when Sam ran off to grab ice cream, someone who was a constant. It took Dean so long to open up and trust people that the constant moving meant he was never going to find someone to talk to. Sophie was different; they might not get to see each other as often as they wanted, but they were always available for calls. They tried to talk to each other at least a couple times a week. Sometimes when Dean was on a hunt, calls were postponed, but they always made up for it later. Bobby would never purposefully listen in on their conversations, but he always heard snatches—Sophie telling Dean about a test or laughing and telling Dean that he deserved to have part of his eyebrow shaved off if Sam was walking around missing a strip of hair off his head.

It didn't change Dean's behavior every time they hit a new town, but it did mean that for a couple of hours a week and when they were at Bobby's, Dean could be himself with someone other than his brother. When Sophie became friends with Dean first, Bobby caught the same slightly jealous looks on Sam's face that he had found on Dean's. But, Sam didn't have to worry about being left behind because it was impossible to have one Winchester without the other.

Anyone who had met them knew that Sam and Dean came as a package deal, so it was only natural that Sophie became friends with the younger Winchester as well; however, it wasn't the same kind of friendship that she had with Dean. It was easy to lump Sam and Dean into the same category—hell, half the time their names ended up coming out SamnDean. But, after silently observing the two of them, Sophie realized that they needed different things out of a friend.

Although Sam made friends quickly, he always felt like the odd one out; moving constantly meant that he was always the new kid and was always trying to avoid unwanted attention from his classmates—which meant every time he figured out a math problem, or knew the theme of the book they were reading, he would all but sit on his hands to keep them from shooting up with the answer. He would always answer if called on and his homework was impeccable, but he always held back in order to avoid being labeled a nerd and missing out on getting invited to hang out. And it was a damn shame because Sam was smart―smarter than most people Bobby had ever met, young and old.

That's not to say that Dean was dumb, he was just smart in different ways― ways that Bobby and other hunters could understand, even if they couldn't figure out how he did it. Where Sam was all logic, Dean was all intuition. Give Sam a problem and he could instantly break it into its various parts and give you an answer with detailed explanations. Dean would look at the same problem, give you a completely different answer, but when you asked how he knew, he would just shrug. Then, for some unknown reason, they'd both would end up having similar results.

Dean could do amazing things with his hands; what starts out as tinkering with a broken radio turns into a prototype EMF reader, cars go from whining to purring after a few twists of a wrench, an afternoon of sorting through hunting equipment has him eagerly explaining how they can put rock-salt into shotgun rounds.

Sam was all books and research and academia. It made him one hell of an asset on hunts, but it meant that without being able to get it out at school, he was going to go insane trying to figure a way to get all the thoughts that were bouncing around his brain out. He wasn't going to be able to engage a hunter in a conversation on literature or history; they had a whole different set of concerns. He could debate philosophy with them if it was about where a ghost goes when they salt and burn it…and they were piss ass drunk.

As a kid, he had tried, but the only ones he could get to even humor him were Bobby and Dean.

* * *

_Bobby groaned loudly when he heard the gravel in his driveway crunching underneath tires. He had just laid down and was hoping to grab a couple hours of sleep. From the sound of the engine, he had a feeling he knew who it was, which made him even more reluctant to throw the warm blankets off of himself and go to the door. But, if his suspicions were correct, there were two reasons that would make the cold trek across the house worth it. Knowing it was only a matter of time before the knocking began, Bobby bravely threw one leg off of his bed and quickly followed with the rest of his body. _

_"I'm coming," he mumbled under his breath, stumbling through the house towards the door. He did a quick check out the peep hole before he flung the door open without ceremony. "Come on, I'm not paying to heat all of South Dakota." _

_John ushered Sam and Dean through the door, stomping his own boots outside to shake some of the snow off of them. "Thanks," he said gruffly, grateful for the change in temperature. The heat in the Impala had been glitchy and the past few hours had been spent with Sam and Dean shoved together on the front seat next to him with blankets thrown across their bodies. _

_"Yeah, yeah," Bobby was about to send them upstairs when he caught sight of Sam's face. "I'll take them upstairs; I gotta grab some extra blankets for the beds. You can get cleaned up, blankets are in the closet, and you know where the couch is."_

_He got the boys upstairs and knelt next to Sam who was sitting on the edge of the bed. He gestured to the deep bruising around Sam's eye, "So, that's quite a shiner you've got there, you wanna tell me how it happened?"_

_Sam's explanation had better be good because he was more than ready to grab his shotgun and make sure Johnny would never be able to sit comfortably again._

_With a reassuring nod from Dean, Sam said quietly, "Some kids decided that I was a geek."_

_Bobby wasn't that big on hugging, but when tears formed in the small boy's eyes, he found himself pulling Sam in tight. "Are you okay?"_

_When the sniffling reply of, "Dean fixed it," reached Bobby, his eyes shot up to the taller Winchester and was met with the narrowed, challenging gaze of an older brother who was prepared to defend his actions to his dying breath. There was no need―if Bobby had been in his shoes, he would've done the same thing. _

_"I'm never raising my hand again," Sam declared passionately, running the back of his hand over his face._

_Bobby knew that was a promise he wasn't going to be able to keep, but he did doubt Sam would ever put himself out there like that again. So, Bobby made his own promise, silently but with the same passion―to never let Sam's need to express his knowledge and his desire to learn more be ignored._

* * *

Bobby kept up at first; he contributed to the bits of trivia Sam liked to spout off, with knowledge from his own distant education. Then he nodded, unable to add anything, but still vaguely remembering the topics. By the time Sam was 11, Bobby was just nodding as he listened to Sam ramble on about different kinds of rocks. Now, he was bringing up books that Bobby had never even heard of and was asking questions about math that he didn't have a chance in hell of knowing―the boy was like a damn sponge.

Dean had been able to keep up with Sam for longer than Bobby. Way before Bobby had made his promise, Dean was doing his best to make sure Sam didn't miss out on anything. Stories were read every night from the time Sam could toddle over to his brother with a book in hand―some of the words being skipped over, only to be filled in a few months later when Dean learned how to sound them out.

After they were both in school, Dean would sit down with Sam and go through his homework with him―answering questions if he knew them, and staying up for hours after Sam had gone to bed to learn them if he didn't. Then, when Dean's time was split between Sam and hunting, Dean would pack his duffel a bit slower than necessary so Sam could ramble on about what they had done in class.

When Sophie became friends with Sam, it was like a relief hitter coming up to the plate. Finally, there was someone in Sam's life that knew nothing about hunting. She didn't want him to translate a Latin passage from a decaying book, or want to know how to kill a water spirit. Better still, he didn't have to justify how _Of Mice and Men_ would help him if a werewolf was attacking him, or if he could apply the Battle of Hastings to a fight against vampires (if they actually existed). Sam was free to talk to someone about things that interested him and even engage in discussions that would have his brother ready to do research just to get him to shut up.

Sophie had come in and unknowingly begun to patch them up, just as they did for her.

As Bobby took a long pull from his warm beer and patted Cooper's head resting on his leg, he couldn't help but wonder if the thread was going to be strong enough.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Okkkkaaayyy, so we weren't loving the last chapter….hopefully this one goes over better. I want to send out a huge thank you to CD96 and an anonymous reviewer. Actually, everyone who reads this chapter and enjoys should thank them because they are who gave me the motivation to get this out. Remember, while I will write for the pure entertainment of writing, I have much more incentive to get it out of the notebook and to you guys if I know people are enjoying it (or even hating it); otherwise, I would be content to write for myself. But, that is neither here nor there.

What is here is the next chapter, I hope you guys enjoy!

* * *

"So, where are we going anyways?" Sophie asked excitedly, craning her neck to look out the windshield. They had been on the road for a little more than an hour and it was a testament to their steady stream of conversation that she hadn't asked yet.

Rather than being unsatisfactory, Dean's answering shrug made her look forward to the next two weeks even more. Before her mom's accident, her life was meticulously planned out of necessity. Her mom worked full-time as a nurse and she was involved with soccer and AP classes. They weren't poor, but they were certainly going to need help paying for college; meaning she had to work her butt off to get scholarships. Thankfully for her mom, it wasn't her personality to baulk at that kind of structure―she just pushed through the long days so her mom would have less to worry about.

After she came to Bobby's, more rules were thrown on top of her. She figured it had something to do with Bobby never having kids or dealing with a teenage girl every day. She was expected to always let him know if she was going to be late or if she was going someplace unexpected―whereas her mom gave her free social reign. She also had to help Bobby with the salvage yard; despite Bobby and Dean's best efforts, she was still pretty awful under the hood of a car, but she could change the oil or work on the yard's books.

It could have been the increased control, but it was a little more difficult to follow Bobby's rules. The look on Bobby's face the first time she had fought the rules was incredibly easy to recall.

* * *

For once, Sophie caught the screen door before it slammed shut behind her. It was the first summer since she had moved into Bobby's and she had been hanging out with Alex at the Burger Bar in town talking about their plans. Taking a sip of her milkshake, she knew it was getting close to the curfew that Bobby had placed on her. If she called him, he was pretty lenient, but she didn't want to pause the conversation long enough to go outside and use the payphone. Besides, that payphone was disgusting. She had never broken curfew before, so she didn't think that it would be that big of a deal―that didn't stop her from making her entrance as quiet as possible.

…Which was completely pointless because Bobby was sitting in the living room waiting for her to come home.

"Where the hell have you been?" he growled, jumping out of the armchair.

"Uh," she answered lamely, "I was with Alex, remember?"

"Oh, I remember," he confirmed, nodding his head. "But that doesn't explain why you're two hours late and I didn't get any calls."

"We were just at the Burger Bar, we never left, I didn't think it would be that big of a deal," Sophie defended, her volume rising to match Bobby's.

Bobby took a few steps closer to her, not quite invading her space, but it was obvious that it was a fight for him not to. "If you're gonna be late, you call. I don't care where you are or who you're with. And since that didn't happen tonight, you're grounded for two weeks."

"You can't be serious," Sophie yelled, throwing her hands up. "You can't ground me, I have plans."

"Yeah? Well I had plans on getting a good night's sleep, but those were ruined when my inconsiderate niece decided to ignore my rules. So, I guess you'll just have to change your plans."

"Your rules?" Sophie sneered, her frustration getting the better of her. "I think I'm a little old for you to try to change me, Bobby."

"My house, my rules," Bobby stood firm, his arms crossing over his chest. "They're there for a reason and you do _not_ get to make me worry like you did tonight. You're my responsibility and I'll be damned if you get hurt."

"Well guess what, you're not my dad! Hell, you're barely family!" Sophie shouted, the barb flying from her mouth without a very needed second thought.

It would be hard to decide who was more surprised by the outburst, her or Bobby. She swallowed hard, but couldn't make her mouth work to take back the heated words. How could she take them back? They were meant to hurt and judging by the look on Bobby's face, they succeeded.

Before she could get her mind to connect to her mouth, Bobby spun on his heels and stalked towards his room. "You're grounded for a month," he shot over his shoulder.

Spending a night, awake and staring at her ceiling, made her realize all that Bobby had done for her and made her realize where he was coming from. When she ran into Bobby in the kitchen the next morning, she didn't have the chance to apologize before he was dropping a plate of waffles in front of her.

"Lawn needs mowed," he told her, heading for the back door.

"Okay," she agreed, having decided the night before to take her punishment in silence. When he reached the door, she called out, "Bobby, I'm really sorry about last night."

He nodded his understanding and acceptance of her apology, "You're still grounded."

* * *

From then on, Sophie had been much more accepting of Bobby's hovering and his rules. Which was why she was surprised that he had agreed to the road trip without them having a plan.

"We're just going to drive until we stop?" Sophie asked him, the thought continuing to grow in appeal.

"Well, we're limited by the oceans, but basically, yeah…unless you have somewhere specific you wanna go," he said.

"Where are we now?" Sophie had been watching for a road sign, but either Dean knew where he was going, or he really was just driving.

Dean checked his watch before responding, "We're about an hour and a half outside of Stewartsville."

"Do you have a map inside that head of your's?" Sophie asked jokingly, leaning over to tap Dean's temple.

"Nah, but there's one in the glove compartment if you wanna grab it out," Dean told her, gesturing in front of her. He'd already moved the Glock that was normally stored in there to underneath his seat, so he wasn't worried about her finding anything she wasn't supposed to.

Unfolding the map, Sophie ran her hand over her stomach as it growled.

"Hungry?" Dean asked, hoping that the answer was yes.

"Someone showed up and kidnapped me before I had the chance to eat lunch," Sophie joked. "I'm ready to start eating the crumbs off the floorboard."

"There are _not_ crumbs in my car," Dean protested vehemently―he knew that for a fact because the moment his dad handed over the keys, he spent hours cleaning her, inside and out. "Say that again and I won't feed you," he threatened.

"If you don't feed me, you won't get to eat either," Sophie pointed out. "And we both know that's not gonna happen, so chop chop, take us to the nearest food distributor."

Sophie clapped her hands towards Dean, laughing loudly when he smacked her hands away.

"You're lucky I'm hungry," Dean told her, pressing the accelerator down so they could reach Stewartsville quicker.

"You're always hungry; you're like a whale that has to constantly eat or die," Sophie teased.

"Are you calling me fat?" Dean's voice rose with mock indignation as he held a hand against his chest.

"Yep," Sophie confirmed brightly. "We're gonna be lucky to make it anywhere with the way you eat."

"I resent that."

"You resemble that," she countered.

His hunger being an issue, Dean didn't pass up on the next gas station with a diner attached to make a point. "Better eat up; this is the only time for the next two weeks you'll get food."

Heading into the old, but clean dinner, they sat themselves at the cracked and ancient vinyl booth and smiled at the portly waitress as she handed them their menus and rattled off the specials in one breath. "Specials today are the club sandwich and the bacon cheeseburger. I recommend the milkshakes. I'll be back in a minute to take your order."

Sophie immediately began to browse the one page menu that Dean didn't bother picking up. He had grown up on diner food; the fare was all the same.

"Let me guess," Sophie said when Dean began to play with the salt shaker, "You're getting the bacon cheeseburger."

Dean continued to bounce the salt shaker between his hands and grinned, "Best thing in a place like this. I would stop thinking about that salad you think would be good for you and join me on the dark side."

Sophie peered over the top of her menu, "How'd you know I was thinking about a salad?"

Shrugging, Dean replied, "Cause you're a girl and I've seen you and Sam eat way too many of them."

"They're healthy," she argued, "and I like them."

"No one likes them―that's just a lie they tell themselves so they can get through eating a plate full of weeds."

"No, I…"

"Have y'all decided?" The graying waitress was back.

"Two bacon cheeseburgers, fries, and a chocolate and a strawberry shake," Dean ordered with a grin that could charm a nun out of her habit.

Like a fly to sugar, the waitress beamed at him, "Sure thing, that'll be right out for ya."

"Thanks, sweetheart," Dean said warmly. Looking at Sophie, he held his hands up defensively, his smile turning triumphant. "What?"

"I think I'm old enough to order for myself," she said, snatching the salt shaker away from him. "And I think our waitress is old enough to be your grandma."

"You don't get to order for yourself until I can trust you to make good decisions. And the older ladies need a bit of fun too." Sophie frowned at the thought, causing Dean to laugh. But, she knew it was innocent; Dean would flirt with a lamp post if he thought it would be fun. "Besides, you should be happy—now you get to eat real food."

Sophie had to admit that the juicy cheeseburger that was placed in front of her definitely looked tastier than a salad. But she made sure to keep her appreciation for the food a secret until she bit into it and a moan escaped unbidden.

"Wanna say I was right now or later?" Dean asked through a full mouth.

"Shut up," Sophie ordered, her mouth already ripping another bite off.

* * *

The late start they got meant Dean was looking for a motel after less distance than he was used to going in a day. He had also noticed Sophie shifting on the seat every couple of minutes―not that she had complained; he just needed to keep in mind that most people weren't used to sitting in a car for hours on end.

He waited until they reached a promising looking town and began to scan the buildings for a suitable motel. Normally, if he was with dad and Sam, they would pull into the cheapest and easiest to get out of motel and call it a night―but for obvious reasons, Dean was looking for one that was a step up from the usual. Finally, just as they were about to reach the end of the main road, he found one that looked like they might have cleaned the sheets, but was still in his price range.

"We're stopping?" Sophie asked, having been staring out of her window watching the sun set.

"Yeah, it's getting dark and I could use a break," Dean told her, easing the Impala through the small, pothole ridden lot. "We can get an early start tomorrow."

"You_ could_ always let me drive," Sophie slyly proposed.

"I _could_ eat salads, but we both know it's not gonna happen," Dean said, letting the engine fall silent with a flick of his hand. "You wanna wait here or come in?"

"I'll come in," her hand was already on the handle.

He led the way to the motel's office and immediately thought that maybe he should have drove a little further if the office was any indication of how the room was going to be. He caught Sophie's raised eyebrow before she hid it with passive interest. He shifted his shoulders a bit, discomfort radiating through him. If she thought this was bad, how would she react to the room? Or worse, if she found out how they normally lived? Knowing that he had no choice, Dean walked up to the greasy manager.

"Room?" he asked disinterestedly.

"Yeah, one night, two beds," Dean told him, pulling out his wallet.

"Two beds, huh?" The manager glanced around Dean to look at Sophie, who fidgeted under the scrutiny.

"Yeah, two beds," Dean confirmed, taking a pointed step to the left to block Sophie from his view.

"Hmph," he snorted in disdain, "room four, to the left, check-out is at 11."

"Thanks," Dean said insincerely, turning to usher Sophie out of the office. He ignored Sophie's protests as he grabbed both of their bags from the backseat and headed for their room. Holding his breath as he swung the door open, Dean let it out in a relieved whoosh of air―it could have been a lot worse. At least it looked like it had been cleaned before they got there.

"Looks….homey," she said. Her eyes struggled to take in the American flag themed room.

Dean knew what she meant, "It could be worse."

Sophie frowned, "You've seen worse than this?" She asked skeptically, her frown deepening when he nodded. Just what types of places was he used to staying in? Deciding that the first night on a two week long road trip was not the night to bring it up, Sophie let herself bounce down on the bed, surprised when it sagged under her weight. She probably should've guessed that the beds weren't the best.

"Nope, that one's mine,' Dean told her. He waved her off to the bed away from the door.

"I like this one," she replied. She really had no actual preference, but she did enjoy being difficult.

"Well too bad, I paid, I get to pick my bed," Dean argued, tossing the bags on the ground.

"It's my graduation gift."

"I can make you move," Dean warned.

"I'd like to see you try," Sophie invited, expecting, but still surprised when Dean leapt from his spot and softly tackled her, making sure that he didn't actually hit her with any of his weight as he knocked her back on the bed.

Heaven forbid a bad guy ever use the tickling tactic―she would be screwed. She wasn't able to catch her breath long enough to pull any of the moves that Dean had taught her.

"Give up?" Dean asked, his fingers digging mercilessly into her sides.

"Never!" Sophie gasped as she tried to roll away from him.

One minute later, he had her begging, "Fine, you can have the bed! Just stop!"

Then, with gasps in between, "Dean. Please. Stop!"

Dean waited to stop until a few seconds later, determined to make his point before he pulled back with a victorious smile. Sophie waited until he started to stand before placing her feet on his chest and pushing him away.

"Pff," Dean's breath left him as he took a steadying step back. "All right, that's it," Dean drawled, grabbing her legs and pulling her closer to him. "Let's go," he said, pushing up with his legs and tossing her over his shoulder at the same time.

"Not cool!" Sophie whined, finding herself upside down. "You're a monster," she complained, hitting him on his back as he walked her around the beds with ease.

"You should've listened the first time around," Dean reasoned unsympathetically. Without ceremony, Dean bent over and let her fall off of his shoulder and onto the bed.

"Are you always this picky about which bed you sleep on?" Sophie huffed. The bed she was laying on felt significantly less comfortable than the first purely because she had lost.

"Yes." No. The rules regarding beds were figured out before he turned five. At first, Sam and Dean shared a bed―the edges blocked off by extra pillows so Sammy wouldn't roll off. The pillows disappeared, but the situation remained the same throughout their youth until Sam started his kicking phase. He just couldn't sleep in the same position all night; his limbs would fly around, causing damage to anyone within reach. Dean finally declared that he was done when he woke up in the middle of the night with a bloody nose…for the third time. Then, they started trying to stay in places that had a couch. If they weren't lucky, Dean would either sleep on the floor, or rock paper scissors Sam for the bed―meaning he always slept on the floor.

The bed near the door was always their dad's; it went without saying when they arrived at a new place. But, once their dad started to leave them alone while he went on hunts, Dean eagerly started to sleep on there, accepting the responsibilities that went with it.

So, there was no way he was going to let Sophie have the bed―if something came through it, he wanted to be the first one to face it.

"Well, you should work on your issues," Sophie suggested, flopping back.

Dean shook his head at her petulant tone, knowing it would go away with his next question, "So plan for the night, do you wanna order in or go and grab something to eat?"

"Order in," Sophie said immediately, oddly tired even though she just sat in a car all day.

"Pizza okay?" He asked, continuing when she nodded, "Okay, I'll order the pizza, you find something to watch."

* * *

Dean had spent the majority of his life in motel rooms. They ranged from tacky, to disgusting, to downright scary. He'd heard babies crying, women yelling at their boyfriends, and things he didn't want to remember. His memories of life before them were hazy and centered mainly on his mom, not the house. There were obviously times when he wished he could go back to that and live a normal, apple pie life, give Sam that normalcy he wanted so badly. But, it wasn't all horrible. He got to see more of the country than most people ever dreamed about, his and Sam's close relationship was always commented on by teachers when they transferred into a new school, and he got to help his dad protect people―those were worth the nasty motel rooms.

But…motels weren't home. They were pit stops along the road. There was never anything personal in them besides three duffle bags that were always packed and ready to go at a moment's notice. However, something felt different with Sophie in the room. Maybe it was the fact that her bag was split open, clothes falling out or her shoes lying by the bathroom where she had kicked them off. They were the signs of someone who didn't expect to be abruptly woken up in the middle of the night and told that they had five minutes to be in the car, with no explanation. Or have to sneak out the bathroom window when CPS came knocking—bruises on Dean's neck from a hunt causing accusations of child abuse.

It was normal. The normal actions of a normal person living an apple pie life. Well, mostly apple pie.

When he slid out from underneath her head lying against his arm and lifted her slowly off of his bed and into hers, he thought that he could get used to it.

There was no pressure with her; there never had been and that honestly scared him. His whole life was a study in pressure―pressure to live up to his dad's expectations in hunting and to protect Sammy, pressure to live up to Sam's expectations of older brother…it was exhausting. Sophie made him worry because he didn't want her to get hurt, but she never asked anything of him. She accepted the fact that his table manners were appalling; that he said things that were rude, but rarely meant them; that he sucked at talking, but if he _really _had to, he would extend a rarely used hug; that he soaked up pop culture like a sponge; and he would always be over protective.

Her pure acceptance of him was one of the reasons he allowed her in, but Dean could only think that was going to get her hurt one day. The odds that she would get out of their friendship unscathed were slim to none―he was a screw up; sooner or later he would do something to hurt her. But, he knew that he was never going to be strong enough to make her leave.

* * *

Please review! And don't worry, there is conflict in Dean and Sophie's future!


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: You guys are awesome! Sorry I haven't have a chance to respond to your reviews yet—for some reason, FF neglected to inform me that I had new reviews. So, I will be getting on that. This next chapter is a little shorter than usual, but I wanted to get it out to you guys as soon as possible. Let me know what you think!**

* * *

"How far are we from Chicago?" Sophie asked as Dean eased the Impala out of the parking lot. She didn't bother to check the map because she had the feeling that Dean already knew.

"About two hours or so, why?"

"Do you think we could go through it? My mom and I took a vacation there once and I really liked it." They took the trip for Sophie's fifteenth birthday. They had both been so busy with life, that they had been spending less time with one another, so her mom took the opportunity to spend a solid week with just her.

"You wanna go to Chicago?" He clearly didn't want to.

"Do you not like it?"

Dean lifted his arm and rested it along the window frame. "Wouldn't know, never been," he revealed.

"Never?" She was kind of surprised―with how much they moved around, she just figured that they might have gone through it before. "Well, what's your favorite big city?" she asked curiously.

"I don't have one," he answered honestly with a shrug.

"Seriously? Come on, what city is the most fun?"

"I don't have an answer for you, Soph," Dean insisted. "We stay out of cities for the most part."

It was the truth. Backwater motels were less likely to find their odd hours strange, diners in need weren't going to look closely at credit cards, and it was easier to pick out and hustle the local drunks at the bar. Not to mention, they were a hell of a lot less likely to get caught digging up a grave in a town of 200 or get picked up on a security camera breaking into a suspected haunted house. Thankfully, some hunters liked taking jobs in the city, but the Winchesters always steered clear.

"Huh," Sophie hmphed. "Well, this could always be an experience for you. After all, I'm sure you've come up with some plans for me while we're on this trip. If you get to show me things, I should be able to return the favor. And, if you hate it, we don't have to do it again."

"Are you propositioning me?" he smirked at her.

"Ha. Ha. You wish," She replied with her own smirk. Effortlessly, she morphed the smirk into large puppy dog eyes. "Please, Dean?"

"Stop it," Dean ordered, keeping his eyes glued to the road. He had learned the hard way that Sophie's wide eyes were just as successful at getting him to do what she wanted as Sam's or his dad's orders were.

"Dean," Sophie said slowly, tapping on his arm.

"Knock it off," his resolve wavered and his eyes darted over to her, only to jerk back to the road.

"Come onnnn, just one day. One day and I won't ask again."

"I hate you," Dean groaned when he finally met her eyes.

"Don't lie," she shot him a smile and settled back against the seat triumphantly.

* * *

It was clear that they were heading into a large city when they began passing suburbs and new housing complexes…and Dean's biggest complaint, traffic. The sound of the Impala idling had heads turning left and right looking for the source of the rumble. But, not even the appreciative looks that the car was receiving could haul Dean from his bad mood.

He hated traffic. The continuous stop and go was horrible on his brakes, he had to watch the gas gauge drop due to sitting and not because his baby was eating up the road, and most importantly, there was a bunch of other cars. That part was a given when stuck in traffic, but Dean couldn't help but feel a sense of disdain towards them.

When he grumbled under his breath for the fifth time in under a minute, Sophie sighed, "It isn't that bad."

"It's taken us an hour to go ten miles," Dean pointed out in frustration, waving his hands at the cars surrounding them. "My baby is meant to move, not sit here."

"Will you relax? We're almost there."

Sophie's request went unheeded as Dean was cut off, "Okay, maybe not relax, but perhaps you could unclench," she motioned to the white knuckled grip he had on the wheel.

Dean thought it over and then made a big show of releasing his hands.

"Better," she said, pretending not to see Dean scratching his face with his middle finger. "So, is there anything you want to do while we're here?"

"No, no, no, this was your idea―you have to come up with the plan," Dean passed the decision off to her.

"Yeah, but this is your first time to Chicago," she countered.

"And it's only my second time in a huge ass city; so I can't begin to tell you what there is to do, let alone what we should do."

Sophie frowned as he revealed something about his life outside of Bobby's again, "There is no way you have made it 18 years and have only been in a big city once."

"I thought we went over this—I was born in Lawrence, stayed there till I was four, then when I was twelve, dad had a job in San José for a bit." He shrugged again, "dad likes small towns."

"Huh."

"What?" he asked somewhat defensively, recognizing her tone.

"Nothing."

"No, you thought something, what was it?"

"Noth…"

"Sophie!"

"It's just, you'd think with moving you guys around so much, your dad would have taken the time to show you some more things," she explained.

Dean's hands returned to strangling the wheel, "Well, he was busy with work."

"Yeah," Sophie couldn't hold back her scoff, "because the world will end if a car takes a couple extra days to get fixed."

Shooting her a disarming grin, Dean tried to get out of the progressively uncomfortable conversation, "What can I say? Cars are damned important."

"More important than providing a home for your kids?" Huh. That escalated more than she had intended—guess that had been brewing for a while now.

"We've had homes, Sophie. It's not like we were sleeping out on the streets." A couple of freezing cold nights in the Impala, sure….but never the streets.

"How many?" she challenged.

Bobby's, the Impala….that was about it, but what he said was, "Sophie, I'm not gonna argue with you about the way my dad raised us. He had his reasons and he hasn't done a bad job of it."

"I'm just…" Sophie started.

"Well, don't!" Dean shocked her by slamming his hand down on the wheel. He took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes for a second. "Sorry," he apologized softly, knowing he had gone too far. Sam and dad were the hot heads—they needed someone to run interference and keep them from killing each other. As a result, Dean kept any extreme emotions tucked away. They went a little rogue sometimes, but he always reserved that for Bobby or Sam, never Sophie.

Sophie refused to turn at his apology, not quite sure she wanted to see the effect her criticisms of John had on Dean. To be fair, Dean didn't look at her either.

"Look, Soph, can you…can we just not right now? I…I'm already on edge because of the traffic, I don't need you bringing up all the same arguments Sam has made for the past six months."

"I wasn't…" she stopped herself, "okay." She knew Sam had pulled the rebellious teenager card lately and Dean had told her that everything was turning into a fight between Sam and their dad. This trip was supposed to be about fun, not adding to Dean's stress. So, she would let it go, at least for now.

* * *

Sophie thought that once they reached the actual city, Dean would relax a bit, but with every stop light and car horn, he seemed to get more wound up. Instead of drumming his fingers along with the music, his hands remained firmly locked on the steering wheel and he seemed almost hesitant in his driving. Which made sense when she thought about it—if John avoided cities, Dean would've never driven in them, and was probably uncomfortable with the aggressiveness of the drivers. She had some major work ahead of her to convince him that he didn't hate Chicago.

They were driving further into the city to find somewhere to stay, but Dean seemed more focused on making sure that no one hit the Impala in their rush to get home. Seeing a sign for a chain hotel, Sophie directed him towards the entrance.

By this point, Dean was ready to stop wherever would get him off the road (a statement he never thought he'd make) and turned without question. He regretted his eagerness to get out of the car when he realized what was going to happen. "No way in hell."

"Come on," Sophie urged, thinking that it was the obvious step up from their motel last night that had Dean balking. "This was my idea, I have my debit card, I'll pay."

Dean looked over at her, "You're not paying, but I'm not handing my baby over to some stranger," he jabbed an indignant finger towards the valet walking up to the car.

Ah. That explained it. Dean had been adamant about not letting _her_ drive the Impala—the chances of him handing over the keys to someone he didn't know was about as likely as Sam learning how to rebuild the engine. "They're just parking it," she futilely tried to convince him that it was okay.

"No," he said stubbornly, all but crossing his arms over his chest.

"It's this, or continue driving around Chicago. This is probably the cheapest place and it would mean that you don't have to drive her until we are heading out…"

The valet paused at the still closed door and window and looked unsure, glancing into the car.

Sophie tossed him an apologetic smile and held up a finger, asking for a minute. "Dean, they park cars for a living. I know you don't want to, but we don't have many other options right now."

He looked like he was going to argue with her, but after thinking about returning to the road, he ripped the keys out of the ignition and threw his door open. Sophie couldn't make it out of the car quick enough to keep him from threatening the poor valet he was towering over. "One scratch, just one scratch and I'll make sure you can never park cars again. You'll park her, lock her, and bring me the keys."

"Sir, it's customary for us to hold on to the keys until you are ready to leave," the valet explained. Sophie thought he was pretty brave to even try.

"Yeah, I don't really care," Dean said simply. "You'll park her, lock her, and bring me the keys."

"Uh," the valet lost that little bit of bravery, "yes, sir. If you'd like to grab your luggage, I'll be right back."

Sophie stood next to Dean as the valet slid nervously into the Impala and pulled away. "If he hurts her…"

"I'm sure she's gonna be fine," Sophie reassured, but Dean didn't seem to breathe until the valet came around the corner and nearly threw the keys into Dean's outstretched hand in his haste to comply.

"Thanks," Sophie said, aware that Dean wasn't going to be extending any gratitude. Grabbing Dean by the arm and Sophie spun him towards the hotel entrance, ending his glaring session with the valet. "Alright, Kujo, let's get checked in and then we can go explore and get a bite to eat."

* * *

**_Sneak peek to let you know I am working on the next chapter:_**

_"This isn't food," Dean poked moodily at the plate full of…what did Sophie call it? Swahili? Probably not, but it didn't make any difference, he wasn't eating it._

_"It's just chicken, Dean," Sophie shook her head at the petulant pout he was working on. He might claim that she and Sam over used the puppy dog eyes, but he definitely had his own arsenal of weapons. "You made me eat a bacon cheeseburger—just trust me on this one."_

_"Yeah, and I should have continued to pick where we eat," Dean dropped his fork on the plate. "I should've known the moment I let my guard down you would fall back into your bad habits."_


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews and continued interest. I know this story is slow moving (it's a writing habit I can't break), but I hope you guys are still liking it. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

It took Dean one minute and 37 seconds to flip through all the channels—everything from sports, to news, and music videos popping up on the screen with clarity that he only saw when he and Sam snuck into a movie or they were watching a video at Bobby's. His options were a far cry from the two channels with fuzzy reception that he was used to; especially since they usually consisted of an old movie channel and one featuring Spanish soap operas. He wasn't willing to admit how many hours he and Sam had spent creating dialog for the characters by studying their body language and interactions. Sometimes they went for realism, other times they created the most ridiculous scenarios. Surprisingly, their dad never told them to knock it off, but encouraged it, saying that it would help them learn to read people.

With so many choices, Dean had to go through the channels a couple of times before settling on an old football game. After making sure the volume was low, he pulled out his phone and quickly scrolled down to Sam's name—He only had to wait a second before it was answered.

"Where are you?"

"Hi to you too, Bitch," Dean greeted. "We're in Chicago."

"Seriously?" Sam questioned, his voice full of curiosity the same way Dean's was with disgust when mentioning the city. "And hi, Jerk."

"Yes, seriously."

"How did Sophie manage to convince you to go there?" He asked before chuckling, "Let me guess, she used the look?"

"Yes," Dean whined, "that damned look's gonna kill me some day."

"I doubt going to Chicago is going to kill you," Sam reasoned.

"You don't know that," Dean argued, "there are gangs all over big cities."

"Well, I'm pretty sure you're going to be okay."

"Nope, I'm gonna get shot and die and then I'm gonna haunt your ass. And the first thing I'll do is cut your damn hair," he said threateningly.

"You'll be salted and burned before you can figure out how to hold scissors," Sam grinned, thinking that their conversation could only be classified as morbid, even to other hunters.

"Psh, even dead I'll be able to kick your ass." Dead brought the humor down, "How are things going there?"

Sam's silence was heavy enough that his placating, "everything's fine," wasn't exactly reassuring.

"Uh huh," Dean let his disbelief in Sam's words come through.

"Really, it's been okay," Sam insisted.

"Just tell me, is dad still alive?" Dean ran a hand over his face.

"Yeah, he went out, said he was gonna play some pool."

Sam was old enough and knew his way around a weapon better than most, but it still made Dean uneasy that he was left alone in their shitty apartment. It was stupid really, Sam had been left alone while he went on a hunt with his dad, but they were still close enough that if something went wrong, they could be there quickly. If his dad was out at a bar and there was no hunt going on, chances were that he was going to end up having a few too many and would be useless if something came after Sam. Not to mention, while their dad was at the bar, they couldn't fight, but when he came home, the alcohol would make him all the more willing to engage Sam in an argument.

He would stand by his dad until the world ended, but that didn't make the fact that he was an angry drunk disappear. He wasn't worried about John getting physical—that had only happened once and when he threatened to pack Sam up and disappear, his dad immediately sobered and locked himself in the bathroom for the rest of the night. However, words were a different matter—Dean didn't want to return home to find a huge mess he had to clean up.

A weird ache worked its way into Dean's chest as he thought about everything that could go wrong. Was this homesickness? He'd never been this far away from his brother before, never been unable to protect him if something happened. Whatever it was, he wasn't going to mention it to Sam, but he couldn't help his next question, "Is the door locked and salted?"

Sam didn't disappointment by answering with a put upon sigh, "Yes, Dean, windows too. There's a shot gun against the bed and there's a clear exit path. And just in case I get really scared, I've got a teddy bear that I can clutch to while I hide in the closet."

Dean blushed, thankful that no one was around to see it. Expressing his concern seemed silly now, but he would do it again if it meant keeping Sam safe. "Just make sure you've got enough salt for the closet as well."

"Get off the phone, go and have fun!" Sam told him, sensing what Dean was doing and wanting to put him out of his misery.

"Alright, tell dad I called and try not to be a little bitch, Bitch."

"Okay, watch out for any gangs, Jerk."

Dean didn't bother with any more goodbyes since Sam wouldn't expect them. He clicked his phone shut just in time for Sophie to exit the bathroom, a cloud of steam following her out.

Sophie scrubbed the towel over her head and dropped down next to Dean, using her damp towel to smack him in the face. Grabbing a corner of the towel with pursed lips, Dean yanked it out of her hands and tossed it onto her bed.

"Thanks for that," he grumbled, wiping a hand over his face to rid it of moisture.

"You're welcome," she said lightly. "Were you talking to Sam?"

"Yeah, which reminds me, you need to call Bobby," Dean reminded her.

"Can I borrow your phone?" Sophie's phone was over in her bag and she didn't want to get up to grab it.

Dean simply flipped the phone over to her and tuned back into the game while Sophie called Bobby. He couldn't hear Bobby, but from Sophie's responses, Bobby was stuck on repeat. "Chicago. Yes, Bobby. No, Bobby. Uncle Bobby, we're being safe. No, we haven't….hey!" She exclaimed as the phone was taken from her hand.

"Hey, Bobby. We're being safe, I haven't decided to sell Soph to gypsies yet. But, I'm bored, so we're gonna go do something. We'll call soon, bye." Dean snapped the phone shut before Bobby could open his mouth to respond.

Sophie shook her head as he pocketed the phone, "He's gonna be annoyed the next time we call."

"Yeah, but we don't have to worry about that for a few days," Dean reasoned, slapping her leg and hauling himself off of the bed. "So, what's the plan?"

"Are you hungry?" Sophie asked. They had wanted to get an early start on the day, so they just grabbed some toast on the way out the door. If she knew Dean, and she did, he was probably ready to chew on her arm.

"Dear god, yes," Dean said, grabbing his jacket off of the chair and throwing it on. "Food, now."

"Okay, okay," Sophie agreed, kicking her feet so that she was able get off the bed. "Food and then I was thinking the Navy Pier?"

"Sounds fine," Dean agreed, but really he'd be willing to go anywhere if it meant that he got food.

* * *

"This isn't food," Dean poked moodily at the plate full of…what did Sophie call it? Swahili? Probably not, but it didn't make any difference, he wasn't eating it.

"It's just chicken, Dean," Sophie rolled her eyes at the petulant pout he was working on. He might claim that she and Sam over used the puppy dog eyes, but he definitely had his own arsenal of weapons. "You made me eat a bacon cheeseburger—just trust me on this one."

"Yeah, and I should've continued to pick where we eat," Dean dropped his fork on the plate. "I should've known the moment I let my guard down you would fall back into your bad habits."

Sophie stabbed a piece of chicken off of Dean's plate and popped it into her mouth, "See, not poisonous."

Dean slid his plate towards her, "Well, if you like it so much, you can have it."

"You're seriously turning down food?" Sophie asked, her eyes wide.

"I don't eat things that I can't pronounce," Dean told her with a shrug.

"It's shawarma, and if you'd just try it, you'd know it's good."

"Nah, I'm okay with not."

"Okay then," Sophie returned his shrug and took a couple more bites before she set her fork down and pulled out a $20, placing it on the table. "Let's go."

Dean shook his head and tried to grab Sophie's arm to keep her seated, "Hey, you can finish."

"Nope, let's get out of here," Sophie said, grabbing his arm instead and dragging him after her, throwing a thanks to the waiter as she passed. "I've got an idea."

* * *

Sophie's great plan had all the makings of a bad one when she finally got it. The Navy Pier, which was one of Chicago's biggest tourist attractions, seemed like a good idea—they could grab some food, have some fun, and relax a bit. And for most people it would be. But, watching Dean in the crowd of people, it became clear that she was just being stubborn when she thought that she could get Dean to enjoy the city.

The simple fact was he didn't fit. Instead of shifting around people, they avoided him, some instinct telling them to ease around him and move out of his way. Or maybe it was the glare he gave anyone who got too close. He just felt off. There was something in him that didn't meld with the city, which screamed back country roads and dives—it could've been the plaid, but it was probably the weird energy she couldn't pinpoint.

However, to Dean's credit, he was giving it a chance. Linking her arm through his, Sophie pretended to not notice the tightness of his muscles as she walked him further onto the pier. "So, shawarma was a bust, but if you'll trust me one more time, I may have something you will like."

"It's not more mystery meat is it?" Dean asked suspiciously.

Sophie sighed, "Dean, for the last time, it was chicken. And no, it's not mystery meat…well, it probably is, but it's no worse than you normally eat."

"Hmm, I suppose I can trust you….but this is the last time."

Shaking her head at Dean's childishness, Sophie brought him to a stop in front of a food cart, "Two dogs, everything on them."

Dean raised an eyebrow at her as she handed over a hot dog and thanked the vendor, exchanging money with him. "This time, no being a picky little girl—eat the damn food and don't complain, it's delicious," Sophie ordered playfully.

"Listen to her, your girl knows what she's talking about," the vendor butted in.

"Yeah, thanks," Dean said, his tone inviting the vendor to keep his opinions to himself. "It has pickles on it, Soph. Hot dogs aren't supposed to have pickles."

Sophie examined him and then reached up to poke him in the face.

"Uh….what are you doing?" He asked as she lifted his eyelid to take in his bright hazel-green eyes.

"Just checking to make sure I was with Dean and Sam hadn't replaced you without me noticing. Since when have you questioned food?"

"Since you keep trying to get me to eat weird things," Dean told her, waving his hot dog around in front of her face. Diner food was the norm, not shawa…whatits or hot dogs with pickles.

"Just take a bite, one bite and I'll leave you alone," Sophie prompted, directing the food towards his mouth.

Dean pivoted away from her slightly, brought the hot dog up and ripped off a large bite and chewed with suspicion lacing his face. But, she could tell after a second that he liked it because he lost some of the tightness around his eyes.

Smirking, she mimicked his words after he ordered for her at the diner, "You wanna tell me I was right, now or later?"

"Shut up," he countered, holding up his hand for the vendor to get another one ready as he took a second bite.

* * *

"What do you think?" Sophie asked, pointing towards the large ferris-wheel at the end of the pier. When she received no response, she glanced over to her silent partner to find him avoiding her. "Dean?"

Dean swallowed hard, "Uh, I don't think that's a great idea. I mean, who knows how long it's sat there?"

Sophie checked the structure over again and said, "I think it's probably safe, otherwise they wouldn't let so many people go on it."

"We don't know that—shit falls down all the time," Dean reasoned, but he was clearly evading.

"I doubt," she stopped herself and watched Dean closely, "are you scared?"

"What?" he asked incredulously. "Am I scared?"

"Yeah, scared. You know, frightened, nervous, scared?" Sophie tried to keep the teasing tone out of her voice.

Dean scoffed and shifted his shoulders around, "No, of course I'm not."

"Then, why don't we go on it?" Sophie asked slyly.

Dean panicked—heights when necessary, when he had something else to think about, weren't horrible. However, to willingly get on something that was going to take him 150 feet in the air for no good reason? Yeah, screw that. But, how was he going to get out of it without sounding like a wimp?

Then, like a beacon in the dark, his saving light, he saw a sign for 'The Maze'. "How about we go in there instead?"

Sophie followed Dean's eye line to the entrance of the attraction. Even from the outside, she could see the strobe lights and hear the delighted screams of the people inside.

It was Sophie's turn to hesitate, "I…" It was the childhood fear of the dark that had her pausing.

"What? You scared?" He mocked, thinking that if he could get her to want to prove something, then she would forget about the ferris-wheel.

"No, let's go," Sophie said, heading for the line.

* * *

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," Sophie mumbled under her breath as she felt along the wall, her senses being attacked by the bright, multi-colored strobe lights piercing through the darkness. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," she repeated.

When they entered the maze, Sophie refused to grab on to Dean's arm because she didn't want him to think she was afraid. She should've followed her instincts because by the time they cleared the first room and were plunged into darkness, Dean had ducked away from her.

"Dean," she hissed, unable to hear anyone in the room with her as she worked towards what she thought was the far wall and exit. Surely there had to be someone in the room, Dean or at least another group of people. "Dean, this isn't funny!" She whispered loudly, forcing her voice to stay low in an attempt to mask her rising fear.

As hard as she tried, she couldn't distinguish between the shadows cast by people and the movement of the strobe lights. It didn't help that the strobe lights were making her dizzy with their constant bouncing.

Sophie jumped and withheld a small whimper as she thought she felt something brush against her arm, but when she waved her hand in the area that it had come from, there was nothing to find. Heart pounding in her chest, she tried to move forward, but found herself turned around and nowhere closer to the next room.

"Stupid, stupid, stup….AH!" Sophie let out an undignified scream as a pair of hands dropped on her shoulders, followed by arms wrapping around her waist.

"You asshole!" Sophie shouted, smacking Dean's arms as he held her from behind. She glared in the dark as she felt his chuckles vibrating through his chest.

Dean nodded, leaning down to whisper in her ear, "I thought you weren't scared."

"Well," Sophie growled, trying to save face, "I wasn't until my _friend_ purposefully went out of his way to scare me." She smacked his arms again, "Now let me go!"

Dean gave her a quick squeeze before releasing her, blocking her hands as she tried to hit him again. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry," he apologized, still chuckling. "I won't do it again."

"You'd better not," Sophie warned, gripping his jacket tightly. "Just in case you decide to try," she explained.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you from the big bad boogeyman," Dean half-teased, shrugging her hand off so that he could wrap his arm around her shoulders and make up for scaring her. "After all, I'm an expert."


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Thanks for the continued support! So, truth time? I've had a bit of a difficult time writing this story. My muse is not gone, I'm just unhappy with the quality I've produced (hence why it has taken longer for me to get a new chapter to you guys). I have also struggled with figuring out how this story will end-I have a whole plot line for once Sophie goes to college and it was actually the original reason I started writing this story, but the characters kind of took over. In response to both, I think this story is going end soon after their road trip and if there is _any_ interest in it continuing, I will do a sequel. Just to repeat, this is not me ending the story!**

**I hope you guys enjoy!**

* * *

Dean kicked his feet lightly to untangle them from the crisp white sheets that had wrapped around him overnight and proceeded to stretch out as far as his muscles would allow—his back arching before he fell back onto the bed with a whoosh of air leaving him.

It had taken him a while to fall asleep on the unfamiliar surface. If it had been the saggy mess of a mattress he was used to, he probably would've passed out after he and Sophie returned to the hotel after eating the biggest pizza he'd ever seen. But, his body was unfamiliar with the soft, but supportive surface beneath him, causing him to toss and turn for over an hour before sleep claimed him.

Now that it was morning and there was warm light streaming across his bed, he couldn't think of any place he would rather be. He felt a bit like a cat that was willing to lounge around all day—maybe Chicago wouldn't be so horrible if he got to lie in his bed all day. Those thoughts were dashed when an amused chuckle trickled over from the other bed.

"Enjoying yourself?" Sophie asked as Dean smooshed his face into his pillow. Checking the page of her book, she set it down on her bed and turned towards him.

"Mmm hmm," Dean answered through the material.

"You gonna get up or stay in bed all day?"

Dean said, lifting his head to send her a contented grin before flopping back into the pillow, "bed."

"It would mean more time in Chicago," she pointed out.

"I'm getting up," Dean said quickly, rolling himself out of the bed with some lingering reluctance. Who knew when or if he would ever sleep in a bed this comfortable again?

Sophie tossed a stray pillow at him as he walked by and waited until the shower clicked on before she leaned over and picked up the phone.

**NEFIU**

Holy hell, he was really beginning to wish that he had denied Sophie's request to go to Chicago. First, there was the super comfy bed and now there was the shower. How was he going to return to the crappy motel showers after this amazing experience?

He'd already been in the shower for 20 minutes without the water going cold, the water was clear, not the murky brown that accompanied rusty pipes and best of all, the water pressure! The drops of water were like little massaging beads beating down his bent neck and back, relieving tension that he didn't even know he had. He might even be willing to trade in Magic Fingers for this shower.

At one point, in between shampooing his hair and the third break to just relax under the water, Dean thought he heard a knock on the door, but when he called out no one answered—so he chalked it up to him being used to Sam or his dad pounding on the door, demanding that he get out before all the hot water was gone.

When his fingers began to prune, Dean reached down and shut off the water, his stomach making itself know as he dried off. It was probably just his hunger talking, but he could have sworn he smelled food. Exiting the bathroom with his towel draped around his shoulders, Dean became concerned that maybe his preoccupation with food should be addressed because he definitely smelled bacon.

Okay, maybe he wasn't insane, he thought as he saw two covered plates. "What are those?" he asked, pointing eagerly towards the dishes.

"Breakfast," Sophie chimed, lifting the lids off to reveal giant waffles with a side of bacon. "Welcome to the wondrous world of room service."

Grabbing the proffered fork, Dean sat next to Sophie and dug in, glancing furtively at her bacon and waiting for the chance to steal a piece.

* * *

The perks of the hotel room did not get rid of the sense of relief Dean felt as Chicago got smaller in his rearview mirror. He had fun with Sophie, but there was something about the city that just made him feel claustrophobic and uncomfortable. Give him an open road and a rundown bar any day. Although, something could be said for cities—their buildings usually had air conditioning. And two days after they left Chicago and were crossing into Alabama, he was seriously considering turning around and heading back.

Sophie probably wouldn't have complained, seeing as she was currently peeling her legs off of the Impala's seat—her skin fusing itself with the leather in a sweaty, sticky glue. The Impala may be a fine car, but there was definitely something to be said for the modern vehicle. Especially if you had leather seats, an all-black metal car and were driving through the Alabama. She was even half tempted to stick her head out of the window like a dog, just so the breeze could hit her directly in the face and hopefully cool her down.

She wasn't alone in her discomfort; Dean was continuously wiping beads of sweat from his forehead, unable to catch them all as they dripped off of his forehead and down his cheek and onto his shirt. He was starting to wish that he made exceptions on his rule about shorts, or at least sandals. He was surviving better than Sophie though—probably because he was used to the sauna like conditions that the Impala created and could tough it out easier than her, or at least suffer more quietly.

"Dean," Sophie whined, once again pulling her short clad legs off of the seat. "This sucks."

"So you've said. What do you want me to do about it?" Dean snapped. Okay, maybe he wasn't handling the heat as well as he thought.

"Make it cooler?" she suggested testily. "Put an air conditioner in here? Drive somewhere cooler?"

You'd have thought she told him to paint the Impala pink with the glare he sent her way. "She is perfectly fine the way she is. We can always turn around and head for the Arctic."

"Oh, snow," she moaned wistfully, "cold, blissful snow."

"You enjoying yourself over there?" Dean teased, turning her earlier words on her and then let silence fall over the car.

* * *

"What are you doing?" Sophie asked an hour later as Dean pulled off the highway.

"I'm hot…and I don't just mean my good looks," he explained, slowing down so his baby wouldn't bottom out on the potholes.

"So what? You're gonna go all Friday 13th and kill us out here so we don't have to be hot anymore?"

"Sheesh, you've got a messed up mind," he said. He didn't bother to clarify where he was taking them because the road opened up to a small gravel lot.

"Look, a makeshift Arctic," he grinned at her and jumped out of the Impala.

Sophie followed just as quickly and gleefully took in the wide lake, the sunlight reflecting off of it almost blinding her. "Where are we?" She asked, already itching to jump in.

"Between Birmingham and Montgomery," he said, using one hand to launch himself over the concrete divider that blocked the rocky descent down to the lake. Turning, he held out a hand to help Sophie over.

Rolling her eyes at the offered hand, Sophie took it anyways and climbed over the barrier, a gasp escaping her as she slid forward on the loose downhill gravel. "Careful," Dean warned, instinctively gripping her upper arm to keep her from sliding any more.

"Thanks," she said, shaking her foot slightly to get the rocks out from between her foot and her sandal. Letting go of Dean, her sandal immediately twisted on the loose surface and her arms flailed in the air and she slipped again. "Damn it!" she cursed as Dean's hand shot out again and steadied her.

"Been walking long?" he teasingly asked. Placing his foot on a rock, Dean made sure he was steady before he held out his arm, "Come on."

Rather than be stubborn and fall down, Sophie accepted his aid and carefully picked her way down the hill. Reaching the bottom, Sophie let go of his arm and looked around. "Why isn't anyone else here?"

Dean looked around and shrugged, "We're in the middle of nowhere. It would be weirder if there were people."

Leaning over, Dean quickly tugged off his boots and moved to undo his belt.

"Hold up there, Romeo," Sophie stopped him, her voice higher than normal. "Um, why are you…"

Dean looked at her in confusion, "Well, I'm not going to swim in my jeans."

Sophie waved a hand back towards the Impala, "Go get a pair of shorts."

"Sweetheart, I don't own shorts," he told her, going back to undoing his pants.

"So, you're anti-shorts, but a-okay with no pants?" Sophie's voice hitched nervously.

She should have predicted Dean's smirk, "I'm alright with it. How about you?"

"I'd prefer if you'd keep your pants on," Sophie told him, jerking her head away when Dean yanked his pants down.

"Well, I'm not swimming in denim, so you'll just have to stop being a girl about it. Besides, it's not like I'm naked," he reasoned.

Sophie peeked at him and blushed—he was at least wearing boxer-briefs, but it was still more of her friend than she was planning on seeing. The situation got even more embarrassing when he grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and twisted it off over his head. "Okay, now you're just trying to…that's new."

"What?" Dean asked, his eyebrow shooting upwards.

"That, it's new," Sophie's discomfort with Dean's state of undress was forgotten and she stepped closer to him and reached out towards him, her fingertips almost brushing against his stomach before he took a step back.

"Oh, it's nothing," Dean brushed her off and tried to redirect her attention towards the water. "Are we going in or not?"

Sophie frowned and shook her head. She recognized the three scars that curved around Dean's left side—they were the reason that she had met the Winchesters in the first place. She first caught sight of them while Bobby was changing Dean's bandages. For how bad the wounds were then, they had faded rather nicely. But now there was a bright pink, barely healed, puckered line of flesh that cut downwards on his stomach, almost like something had tried to slice him open. "That's not nothing," she insisted. "How'd it happen?"

"Look, I'm hot and contrary to popular belief, I don't like standing in the sun in my boxers, so I'm going in," Dean ignored the stubborn set to her jaw and waded into the water. He revealed in the coolness of it lapping around his waist before he dove under. Resurfacing, he used his arms to propel himself backwards as he yelled up to Sophie. "Water feels great! You can stand there and brood or you can get your ass in."

There was really nothing to contemplate, she was burning and the water washing over her feet was just too tempting. Besides, going swimming didn't mean she was giving up; there was plenty of time to pester him later. But, she did see an opportunity to repay him for his choice in swimwear. Without preamble, she yanked her loose-fitting tank top off and threw it on Dean's pile of clothes. She ignored his opened mouth gaping as she kicked off her sandals and followed him into the water.

Swimming out to him, Sophie relished in the cool water…and the look of surprise on Dean's face. "Oh shut up," she said before he could comment. "It's not like you've never seen a bra before—besides, it probably covers more than a swimming suit would."

"I don't know about that," Dean made a playful glance towards her chest and was rewarded with a face full of water. "Oh, so that's how it's going to be?" he asked, swimming close to her, only to have another splash of water directed at him.

"Alright, just remember you asked for it," he said, lunging towards her and pushing on her shoulders to dunk her under.

* * *

Their cooling dip turned into all-out war as they tried to see who could get the other under the water the most. But, the real measure of success was who swallowed the least amount of lake water. Finally, after Dean swam underneath her and used her ankle to pull her beneath the surface, Sophie called for a truce. "Okay, okay! Peace!"

"For now," Dean agreed. "Let's go, we should probably hit the road again if we want to avoid sleeping in the Impala."

"Actually, that could be fun," Sophie began to swim back to shore.

"Hmm," Dean pondered the idea. "Maybe we should save that for a night when we have no other choices."

Sophie nodded in agreement and was about to say something before something slimy touched her foot just as she was about to be able to touch. "Eww!"

"What?"

"Something touched my foot!"

"It's probably just algae," Dean reasoned. "It was all around the shoreline when we came in."

Sophie grimaced, "I guess I missed it." Probably in her eagerness to get cool.

Dean figured that was the end of it and started to walk out, but he quickly realized Sophie wasn't following. "What?"

"I'm not touching it," she said flat-out.

"Hate to break it to you, but you're not a mermaid; you gotta come out some time."

"Nope, I don't like it. It gives me the heebies," Sophie shuddered at the thought of the slimy algae squishing between her toes.

"There are times when I seriously wonder if you're a twelve year old," Dean sighed. If you could stomp through water, he would certainly be doing it as he went back for her.

"Says the biggest twelve year old of all," Sophie mock-glared at him as he reached her.

"Be nice or I'll leave you out here," he returned her glare before he turned around and waved his arm forward. "Get on."

Sophie knew he would make good on his promise, if only for a little while, so she put her hands on his shoulders, hopped onto his back and wrapped her legs around his waist. "Mush!"

Dean ignored the very light tap that Sophie gave with her heels against his stomach and reached back to adjust her so he could walk. Which meant putting his hands on her legs. Her mostly bare legs, which might as well have been completely bare. Her bare legs that were wrapped around his stomach. Her bare legs that were wrapped around his waist while her bra-clad chest was pressed against…

"_Okay, new train of thought needed!"_ His brain shouted at him as he cleared the water and tapped her leg to get off him.

It was just the heat. The heat combined with the fact that they were both in their underwear, because let's be honest, those shorts? He was a guy and they might as well have not been there.

A new topic was still needed and while his brain was stuck on a loop, Sophie's had apparently heard his predicament and stepped in.

By mutual decision, or Dean's body just going along with Sophie, they had decided to sit on the rocky shore for a moment. Belatedly, he thought he remembered Sophie saying something about letting her shorts dry, but he couldn't be sure. Really, he should have pushed moving on because the lapse in time between swimming and putting his shirt back on caused Sophie to bring the scar up again.

"So, how'd it happen?"

"Dog with a bone, Soph," Dean sighed out wearily, referring to her inability to let things drop. On the bright side, all previous thoughts were wiped from his head.

Sophie just shrugged, "Maybe I'll become a journalist. Consider this practice and tell me what happened."

"Just an accident," Dean wasn't lying. It was an accident. If by accident you meant not moving quickly enough.

"Accidents sure seem to happen around you a lot," Sophie mused.

"What can I say? I'm just clumsy."

"First off, I know you. You have an awareness and gracefulness that a dancer would kill to have. Second, that's not a 'whoops I tripped on my own feet and knocked into a wall and now have a bruise.' That's 'whoops I tripped on my own feet and somehow managed to land on someone making slashing motions with a knife.'"

"I have bad luck with street performers," Dean evaded. He grabbed his shirt and put it back on, feeling oddly self-conscious about his scars and hoping that the 'out of sight' saying was true.

"Can you just stop for two seconds? This isn't a joke, Dean. I remember the night you showed up at Bobby's—he wasn't going to let you guys in until he found out you were hurt. If you hadn't been bleeding out in the back of the Impala, I wouldn't have met you. And instead of taking you to a hospital, your dad brought you to Bobby's—who seemed to have no issue or at least not be surprised that he was stitching you up. I'm not blind; I've seen bruises and the other little scars. And now this?"

It wasn't anger that was causing her voice to rise, it was fear. There was something in Dean's life, in Sam's life, that they weren't telling her. If it was some weird family secret like they believed ghosts were real, then that would be fine because it's harmless. But, this secret was hurting them and she'd be damned if she let it go.

"I've explained them to you," Dean tried. "If you don't want to believe me that's your own problem." Dean stood up, dusted his legs off and then jammed them back into his jeans, followed by his boots. He didn't wait for her, but started back up the hill for the car. After a couple of minutes of leaning against the Impala, he was tempted to check on her, but refrained long enough for her to crest the hill, sandals in hand.

"Wait," she called out when he opened up the car door. "I'm sorry."

Dean raised an eyebrow at her, "Really? Does this mean you're done?"

"Yes…I just," Sophie held up a hand for him to wait, "I just worry about you. People don't just have scars like that, Dean."

Anywhere but her eyes was a good enough place for Dean to look at the moment.

"And I know I annoy you with all the questions, but I'd rather ask them than regret not doing it later." She never wanted to say it and could hardly believe that it crossed her mind, but more than once she had wondered if John…she couldn't even say it in her own head. However, Bobby seemed to know and she knew he wouldn't stand for John hurting Sam or Dean that way.

Finally meeting her eyes, Dean's tight-lipped frown faded. He knew she was coming from the right place, but there was no way in hell he was ever telling her about what they did. The farther away she stayed from that world the better. He shook his head, "You don't annoy me with the questions…you annoy me all the time."

"Such a comedian," Sophie dead-panned as Dean pulled her into a sideways hug. "Just promise me that you'll stop having accidents."

"I promise." _To try,_ his mind amended.

"And if you ever need to talk…" Sophie knew that was about as likely as winning the lottery.

"Soph! I'm leaving," he released her and opened the driver's door. "You probably want to get in; it'd be a long walk to anywhere. Oh, and new rule, no more serious talks for the next thousand miles."

"And after that?"

"After that? No more serious talks for the next thousand miles."

* * *

Please let me know what you think! Here's a bit of a teaser for next time.

_"Winchester!" _

_Dean's head whipped around at the familiar voice and a flare of panic raced through him as he put a job title to the speaker._

Hunter.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Thanks everyone for your continued interest! I still love hearing what you guys think about the story. I'm sorry this took a little longer to get out, I am currently in the process of moving and changing jobs and it has all been a little hectic. That being said, I hope you guys enjoy this one!

* * *

Dean's 'no serious talks' rule held as they rolled into a small parking lot in Waskom, Texas, a small town that barely made it over the Louisiana border. Sophie dubiously glanced over at Dean as she took in the dilapidated bar that old country music poured out of almost as readily as plaid wearing patrons spilled from the doors to enjoy the warm summer breeze. Dean didn't say anything as he took out his wallet and began to shuffle through the cards.

"Um," Sophie half-asked, but stopped when Dean flicked his hand out with a card held between his fingers.

"Don't say I never gave you anything," he smirked as she grabbed the offering and flipped it over.

Sophie's brow furrowed as she examined the very good fake id. "Are you serious?" she asked excitedly. She had never thought about trying to get a fake id, but now that she had one, she could definitely see the benefits.

Dean shrugged with a slightly embarrassed look, "I thought you could use it at college."

The reminder that college was looming over them was somewhat sobering, but Dean's smile and slap to her thigh pulled them out of their thoughts. "Let's take it for a test drive."

The smell of stale beer and even more stale people hit Sophie's nose in a wave as they broke through the crowd of people. This was certainly no Manhattan bar like she saw on Sex and the City. This was a bare bones and functional place. The main patrons were blue-collar workers looking for a bit of relaxation after a long day's work and they didn't need or want bells and whistles. That's not to say that it didn't have its own charm…the old jukebox in the corner, the two worn pool tables, the antlers hanging above the dart board—even the people with their clothes and a way of holding themselves that spoke of familiarity and comfort. The whole place had an unassuming air that was welcoming.

Eyes darting around nervously, like someone was going to take one look at her and shout out that she didn't belong, Sophie followed Dean's winding path. She stepped on his heels three times before he stopped in the middle of the bar.

"You've got to chill," he ordered. He waved a hand around the bar, "No one is paying any attention to you. Stop acting like a spaz and it will stay that way. I promise that no one is going to call the cops on you, but if you keep stepping on me, I _will_ leave you here."

Dean spun back around and reached the bar, immediately catching the eye of the female bartender. "Two shots of whiskey and two beers, please."

"Ids," the bartender said, planting her arms on the bar and leaning forward, putting her chest on full display―An offer that Dean did not turn down as he blindly fished his id out and handed it to her. Sophie fumbled with hers, but managed to relinquish it before she got any strange looks.

The bartender, Zoey based on her name tag, studied Dean's id like she was trying to commit it to memory. And judging by the way she kept glancing up at him, it probably wasn't far from the truth. Sophie worried momentarily that they had been found out; surely someone who looked at ids all the time could spot a fake. So, she was surprised when Zoey handed the cards back with a flirty smile thrown at Dean.

"I've not seen you around here before," Zoey commented as she poured their drinks.

"Just traveling through," he told her, leaning forward on the bar.

"Well, I hope you decide to stay a while."

"Ugh," Sophie huffed, turning away because she couldn't stop her eyes from rolling. The bartender couldn't be serious—if she was any more transparent, she'd be named Casper. But, maybe her lines weren't so bad because Dean was smirking at her as he managed to smoothly hand over cash…or maybe Dean was just easy.

"Thanks, sweetheart," he drawled, using all the time they spent in the Midwest growing up to his advantage. Gathering up the beers and leaving the shots for Sophie, he told Zoey, "I'll be back in a bit."

Sophie swore that if he winked at her, she was lifting his car keys and leaving him there and Zoey could give him a ride.

"I look forward to it," the right corner of Zoey's lips quirked upwards.

Setting the shot glasses on an empty table, Sophie let out a shudder, "I think I'm gonna be sick."

"What?" Dean asked defensively, but broke into a smile that admitted he knew what she was complaining about. "She's not that older than me. She probably isn't even 25."

"She probably had a kid when she was 16 and got trapped in this po'dunk town," Sophie argued. "And you can never call me sweetheart again."

"Careful, you're starting to sound a bit jealous…sweetheart," Dean teased.

"Of her? Hardly," she scoffed.

"Hmm, that's not what it sounds like to me. And trust me, I've heard a lot of jealous girls over the years," Dean toasted her with his shot glass and raised it to his lips.

"I bet you have," Sophie said a bit testily, following suit with her glass.

Dean grinned, "On three. One, two, three." Dean slammed his drink back and choked on it when he started laughing at Sophie's grimace.

* * *

"Winchester!"

Dean's heart jumped into his throat as his last name was shouted over the country music. His heart stopped all together when he turned and recognized the caller as a hunter his dad dealt with on occasion.

"Imagine running into you here." It took Dean a second, but he managed to place the name Jackson to the tall hunter. Jackson clapped Dean on the shoulder―the squeeze looking friendly, but Jackson's fingers were actually forcefully digging into his collar-bone. "How ya doing, kid?"

Sophie looked questioningly at Dean over the top of her glass, trying to give them a bit of privacy. She was initially startled by the man's appearance―she knew that the Winchester's lived on the outside of conventional society, but they could easily throw on a smile and fit in. However, she didn't think Jackson could. He was an inch or two taller than Dean's six-foot frame and was probably in between Dean and John in age. He wouldn't be considered attractive by traditional standards, but there was some sort of rugged appeal to him―the kind that screamed stay away, even as it pulled you in…not unlike Dean really. But, the smile he met Dean with was more a baring of teeth than friendly welcome.

"Fine," Dean said sharply, subtly trying to shrug Jackson's hand off of his shoulder. Besides running into an actual monster, this was probably the worst case scenario playing out in front of him. He didn't really know Jackson, but his dad hadn't worked with him in over a year and there was probably a good reason.

"Aren't you gonna introduce me to your lovely friend?" Jackson asked, leering over the table at Sophie.

And strangely, Sophie found herself wishing that Dean wouldn't.

Dean fidgeted, unwilling to allow Jackson any conversation time with Sophie. "Look, it was nice running into you, but we're heading out. How about I give you a call and we can catch up soon?"

"So soon? You guys just got here," Jackson said with disappointment tingeing his voice.

Unease plagued Dean as he scanned the bar and spotted two other men his brain supplied 'hunter' for. As soon as he spotted them, they stood up and made their way over to stand behind Jackson. Apparently Jackson had tagged them the moment they walked into the bar. Dean had been so preoccupied with getting Sophie to relax that he had missed them when he first swept the building. "I've really wanted to catch up with your dad. Is he in town?"

Dean's lips tightened and even Sophie could sense the tension pouring from him. "If you want to talk to my dad, I suggest you call him," Dean ground out, his left hand drifting down towards the knife he kept in his boot.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Dean-o," Jackson mumbled under his breath. He inclined his head towards Sophie, "We wouldn't want your little girlfriend to get hurt."

Sophie couldn't hear the softly spoken words being exchanged over the music, but she could see Dean grind his teeth together. "You touch her and I'll rip your lungs out," Dean growled, tightening the hand that was still holding his beer glass.

"Tell me where your dad is and I'll be on my way," Jackson compromised. "Or, I can send him a message―starting with the pretty girl. It's up to you."

"Bite me," Dean snapped. He wasn't sure what his next move was going to be until he felt Jackson shift forward. Jackson might be a good hunter, but he wasn't John Winchester's son; he had come into the game later in life and he didn't have anything on the line right now. Clutching his beer glass, Dean spun in his chair and smashed the glass against the side of Jackson's head.

Sophie nearly dropped off of the bar stool as Dean pulled his leg back and kicked Jackson in the chest, knocking him back into his two friends. Taking their momentary advantage, Dean leapt off of his stool and shot his hand across the table to grab Sophie's. "Come on!"

They didn't get far before Sophie was yanked from Dean's hold. Panic set in as she felt Dean's fingers slip away. Reacting on instinct born from the endless times that Dean had grabbed her in the same way, Sophie allowed Hunter #1 to pull her towards him and used the momentum he created to bring up her knee and ram it into his groin.

Released immediately, Sophie froze until Dean wrapped an arm around her waist and continued to pull her away. The bar patrons stopped to take in the unexpected fight, creating a wall of people that Dean realized he wouldn't be able to get through fast enough. Stopping, he tucked Sophie behind him and searched for anything or anyone he could use to his benefit. No one looked like they would be of help; they were content to watch things unfold.

"You and your damned family," Jackson spat as he advanced with Hunter #2 following in his wake. The man Sophie kneed was still trying to get his feet underneath him again. "You only think of yourselves. One little threat and your dad left us high and dry."

Dean warily watched Jackson's hands to make sure that he wasn't going for a gun, which would make this a much different situation. But, Jackson seemed content to try and beat the tar out of Dean with his bare hands; maybe realizing that if he pulled a gun, the bystanders would be less content to watch and more worried about their own safety. Another five feet of walking backwards and Dean spotted his possible saving grace. "Get out of here," he whispered, giving Sophie a shove to get her moving.

"What!?" She hissed back, not moving towards the door that was about thirty feet away.

"Go outside," he growled out, needing her to be safe before he made his move.

He didn't have the luxury to wait as the three men were finally on the same page. Darting to the side and momentarily leaving Sophie open, Dean snatched up an abandoned pool cue off of the table and swung it around in the same motion. He crackied it against the face of the hunter Sophie had tangled with and dropping him to the ground. Ramming the butt of it against the side of his head, Dean was sure the man would be out for the count and one less threat to worry about. But, surprise was no longer on his side as Jackson and the second man stopped and reassessed their approach.

Adjusting his grip on the stick, Dean didn't allow his gaze to waver. Even though he wanted to check on Sophie and make sure she was moving away, he knew that if he took his eyes off of the men, they would leap forward. The crowd took a simultaneous step away and began to eagerly discuss the fight that was going on.

"What? Not man enough to take us on without help?" Jackson taunted, walking around to check Dean's defenses.

"There's only one of me and three of you. What's that say about you?" Dean countered, not allowing Jackson to influence when he was going to attack. His dad taught him early on that he should never allow his emotions to dictate a fight; this lesson was reinforced when Sam got old enough to spar with. At first, Dean had the obvious physical and knowledge advantage, so Sam had resorted to verbal zings to get Dean to make a rash move and open himself up. It didn't take many times of losing to a kid four years younger and a foot shorter before Dean stopped rising to the bait.

Unfortunately for Jackson, he didn't have the experience in dealing with the taunts of opponents; he was used to monsters that just tried to eat your face off. Unable to let the public blow to his pride go, Jackson rushed Dean. Dean put all his weight into shoving Jackson aside so he could take out his friend and even the odds. He was almost embarrassed for the other hunter; Dean managed to get the upper hand quickly and ended his participation by directing his head into the solid wood table.

"One on one sounds a hell of a lot more fair if you ask me," Dean said. He was assured of coming out on top now that he only had one person to be concerned about.

But, there was something to be said for someone who was backed into a figurative corner. Jackson didn't come out swinging; it was a bit more like a freight train. He caught Dean in a textbook example of a football tackle, knocking the pool cue out of Dean's hand and not stopping until they hit a brick support pillar. Dean grunted as the back of his head slammed against the bricks and he found himself on the wrong end of the fight for the first time. He wasn't able to move quickly enough to dodge the two rapid right hand jabs that punished his ribs, or the hook that caught him in the jaw. He just managed to break away from Jackson before a knee would have ended the fight. Spinning away, Dean stumbled and used the empty bar stools to keep himself upright while he got his bearings and tried to put himself in front of Sophie again.

"Not so tough now, are you? You little shit." Jackson asked as he advanced on Dean.

"Looking at the numbers, I'd still say I'm kicking your ass," Dean argued, ignoring the blood that welled in his mouth from where his teeth cut because of Jackson's hook.

Apparently the bar's management decided that enough was enough and no amount of entertainment was worth the possible lawsuit they faced if they didn't step in and try to break up the bar fight gone UFC because a shout rang out across the cheering crowd, "Break it up! We've called the police!"

Neither of them wavered; they knew they had a few minutes before anyone showed up―plenty of time to finish the fight and get the hell out of dodge. "You ain't getting any younger there, Jackie."

This time Dean was prepared for Jackson and sidestepped right before he would have been tackled. He kicked out at Jackson's leg as he passed, causing the older man to buckle and hit the ground. Rushing over, he delivered one solid kick to Jackson's ribs and grabbed him by the front of the shirt to return the punches from earlier and cause the beer glass wound to pump more blood out. When he felt the fight leave the man, Dean hauled him close, "I never want to see you again. Any problem you have with my dad, consider it over. And if you ever run across someone who wants to mess with my family, feel free to send them my way. Until then, go stick your head in the sand and lick your wounds."

Dean punctuated his message by dropping Jackson back on the ground. Standing up, he quickly spotted Sophie staring wide-eyed at him and strode towards her. He didn't stop as he grabbed her hand again and shouldered his way through the boisterous crowd―some of them were cheering for his victory and others looked unsure about what the hell just happened. Dean tugged her along until they reached the Impala and upon hearing sirens cutting through the air a sense of urgency coursed through Dean and he snapped her door open.

"Get in," he barked.

Sophie didn't move except to stare down at her hand where blood from Dean's had transferred over to her.

"Sophie, get in the damn car!" He demanded. Realizing that she wasn't moving quickly enough, Dean put a hand on top of her head and shoved her down; pushing her into the car like a cop would. He slammed the door shut and raced around the car, turning it on and peeling out of the parking lot before she registered that she was sitting down.

* * *

_Preview:_

_"Why the hell did I just get attacked by a hunter named Jackson?" Dean demanded into the phone as he paced outside of the Impala where he thought she was sleeping._

_"We're fine and you didn't answer my question," Dean growled. She almost revealed that she wasn't really sleeping when Dean slammed his hand down on the hood of the car. "Damn it, dad! Do you have any idea the mess this has made? What the hell am I supposed to tell her?" _


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Thanks for the reviews everyone! Also for the favorites and follows. :D They are much appreciated. Sorry this one took a while, I moved and then I had to figure out how this was going to go. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

The Impala roared out of town and didn't stop until Dean put a solid 50 miles in between them and the bar. He wanted to make sure that neither the cops nor Jackson would be catching up to them any time soon. Although with luck, Jackson would probably be spending the evening in the local jail.

Coasting down a dirt turn-off, Dean killed the engine once they were safely hidden from the road. This probably wasn't what Sophie had in mind when she suggested spending a night in the Impala, but Dean didn't want to risk checking into a motel―the car was too recognizable and on the off chance that Jackson managed to evade the local cops, he wanted to avoid another run in. Somehow, he didn't think Jackson would be so hesitant to use weapons the next time.

Dean let out a loud rush of air. This was supposed to be a fun night; they might play some pool, throw some darts and maybe even get Sophie drunk. Letting his hands fall from the wheel, Dean twisted on the seat to face Sophie.

Sophie felt him moving, but kept staring resolutely out of the window into the darkness.

He fidgeted uncomfortably; he didn't know what he was going to say, so finding a starting point was proving to be hard. However, he needed to check and make sure she was okay. "Soph?" Dean tried softly, attempting to coax her into looking at him.

When that didn't work, he gave up trying to get her to turn on her own and reached up, gently cupping his hand around her chin to angle her face towards him. Finally he got a reaction―Sophie ripped away and returned to the window.

Dean wasn't deterred and tried again, this time with a beseeching, "Please, Sophie."

His hand received a smack for his troubles, but Dean was determined and he kept trying. He ignored the increasingly hard slaps until he grabbed both of her hands in one of his and yanked her across the seat― perhaps a little harder than he was intending, but his need to check on her caused him to act a bit more impulsively than he usually would.

Avoiding her wide eyes, he examined her for any injuries or signs of pain. His fingers traced over the bruise on her wrist she got from being dragged through the bar. Moving his focus up, Dean brushed her hair away and held her gaze, waiting for her eyes to tell him that she was okay.

Despite her best attempts, it didn't take long for tears begin to well. Wanting to shield her emotions from him, she tried to get away from him again. Instead Dean pulled her in and wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his lips ghosting over her hair. On impulse, he pressed his lips on the top of her head and apologized one more time.

Retreating, Dean got out of the car without a word and grabbed their bags from the back. Walking around, he opened the trunk and tossed them in, trading them for the two blankets they had stored back there. The blankets were slightly dirty from being shoved in the trunk and constantly being moved every time they needed to get something out, but they weren't old because they had been replaced in regular intervals due to excessive blood, monster guts and the time Sammy puked all over them when he had the stomach flu―there were some things and smells that laundry mat machines couldn't get out.

Going to Sophie's side of the car, he opened her door and gently guided her out of the car and to the back seat. Settling her in, he noticed that she didn't have a pillow and quickly took off his jacket and handed it through to her to place against the door.

"Get some sleep," he said, rubbing her leg reassuringly before returning to the front seat. He had to wait a little longer than expected before he heard her breathing level out. Once he was sure that she was asleep, he eased himself out of the Impala, wincing when the door squeaked.

Escaping the car, Dean sat down on the hood of the Impala and angrily punched his dad's number into his phone. He let it ring through to voicemail before he ended the call and switched to Sam's.

"Dean?" Sam answered groggily, his voice thick from sleep.

"Sam, where's dad?" Dean asked immediately, knowing that he only had a second before Sam fell back asleep and they would have to start all over again.

There was a long delay before Sam answered, "He's…he's in his room, I think."

"Go get him," Dean ordered firmly.

Of course Sam was going to protest getting out of his bed, "Call back tomorrow."

"I need to talk to him now," he insisted. His empty hand clenched into a fist, "Go give him the phone, Sammy."

Sam huffed in indignation and threw the covers off of himself. "You suck," he grumbled.

Stumbling out of bed, Sam blindly rammed his toes into the foot of his bed, "Damn it," he cursed, "You really suck."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean responded unsympathetically, "the faster you get him the phone the sooner you can go back to bed."

Dean listened closely as Sam knocked hesitantly on their dad's door. He may have ordered his brother to go and get his dad, but he did feel for him having to go through with it. John Winchester did not like being woken up under the best of circumstances and Dean didn't know what he was sending his brother into.

Cracking open the door, Sam stage whispered into the room, "Dad?" And a little louder, "Dad?"

"Someone better be dying," Dean heard his dad growl out, immediately making him feel bad for sending Sam in.

"Dean's on the phone, he needs to talk to you," Sam explained before his dad could wake up enough to yell.

Like someone had blown a foghorn next to his head, John shot up and snatched the phone from Sam's already outstretched hand. "Dean, are you okay?"

Dean's sympathy for Sam was replaced with a burning anger towards his dad, "I ran into Jackson tonight. You know―tall, dumb and pissed off?"

John repeated his earlier question, "Are you okay?"

Sam lingered in the doorway, all thoughts of returning to his bed disappearing from his head. In his frustration at being woken up in the middle of the night, he hadn't stopped to consider that something could be wrong.

"Why the hell did I just get attacked by a hunter named Jackson?" Dean demanded into the phone. He jumped off of the hood and began to pace, needing to release some of the energy and tension left over from the fight and the current conversation with his dad.

Sophie's breath caught; she was glad that Dean was outside and couldn't hear her. She had meant to pretend to be asleep so that she could escape the awkward tension in the car, but the adrenaline and shock that had kept her body going disappeared the moment her head hit Dean's jacket and she crashed. She probably would have slept through the night if the squeak of the Impala door closing hadn't coincided with a jolting moment in her dream. By the time she heard Dean telling Sam to get John, her curiosity was peaked enough that she was wide awake. Maybe she would get some answers to what the hell happened at the bar if Dean didn't know she was listening.

Apparently Dean wasn't getting the answers he wanted because he snapped into the phone, "We're fine and you didn't answer my question."

She almost revealed that she wasn't sleeping when Dean slammed his hand down on the hood of the car. "Damn it, dad! Do you have any idea the mess this has made? What the hell am I supposed to tell her?"

There was a pause before, "Well, why don't you try cleaning up your messes every once in a while and then they wouldn't come back to bite me in the ass."

"Don't take that tone with me," John barked. Unused to having Dean challenge him, John took the defensive.

"In this situation, I think I can take whatever damn tone I want," Dean countered. "What if something had…" Dean cut himself off before his voice could break embarrassingly.

John scrubbed a hand over his face and pointed down the hallway, "Go to bed."

Dean took the moment his dad was giving him to get his emotions under control. He couldn't see any way this was salvageable, but at least it was not completely worst case scenario―that would have been a lot more bloody and painful. It also would have ended with more than a couple of bruises on Sophie.

Thinking back to the look on her face when he tried to check her over, Dean's breath hitched all over again. If he had to pick one word to describe it, he would choose accusing. Or maybe that was Dean's own guilt from the whole thing―the fact that it happened in the first place, the bruises, the innocence lost, the questions that were now probably flowing through her and that he was going to have to lie to answer them.

He didn't even bother to listen to his dad argue with Sam before he finally threatened a day of suicide drills to get the kid back in his room. "Dean?" he asked, informing his eldest that he had his attention again.

"Dad, what do I say?" Dean asked pleadingly, all the fight slipping away. He was hoping that his dad would be able to swoop in with the magical answers that he needed.

"Nothing," John told him. "You tell her nothing and I'll let Bobby know what happened. He will probably call you and tell you what he wants you to say."

"Nothing?" he questioned incredulously. "Have you met Sophie? In what world does nothing sound like it's going to work? We have days before we reach South Dakota, even if I shag ass."

"I guess you're gonna be learning how to be the strong silent type. Or just field the questions the best you can."

Dean sighed loudly―so much for his dad having the magical answer. If anything, this call just led to more things he was going to have to lie about.

"Are you secure for the night?" John asked. He may have brushed off the attack, but underneath the façade, he was about to boil over. Jackson and his merry band of hunters attacked his kid―his young, mostly unarmed kid who was with a civilian…all because Jackson was carrying a hard on for getting some pay back for a hunt he had left. He wasn't going to apologize for leaving either. Once he found out that he was only invited on the hunt because the baddie liked chowing down on teens and Jackson thought that they could use Sam and Dean as bait, he had packed them up and hit the road.

Needless to say, Jackson would be getting called on real soon, but for now, his main concern was making sure Dean had made it out clean.

"Yeah, we're off of a highway for the night. We can make it out of Texas tomorrow."

"Good, start heading back to Bobby's, but don't rush. We don't need any more police attention," John commanded.

"Yes, sir," Dean said.

Sophie tried to relax back into a fake sleep as Dean ended the call and slid back into the car. Despite her efforts, Sophie was never going to make it as an actress because Dean tossed over his shoulder, "You can stop pretending, I know you're awake."

Seeing no use in lying, Sophie sat up and let the blankets fall off of her, "What's going on?"

"We're staying the night here and we'll head out in the morning," Dean evaded.

"You know what I meant," Sophie insisted. "Who were those guys? What is a hunter?" Sophie picked up steam, "And what the hell does your dad do for a living? Two years and not once has someone given me an honest answer."

"He works on old cars, people hire him to…"

"Stop lying to me!" Sophie shouted, scrambling from the backseat into the crisp outside air.

Dean hit the steering wheel in frustration before following her, slamming the car door shut as he got out. "Why can't you just leave it alone!?" He shouted back at her, all of his dad's advice flying from his head in the face of her anger.

"Leave it alone?" Sophie's voice dropped dangerously low. If Dean was a wild animal, this would be the point where he ran and hid. But, Dean wasn't a wild animal and he wasn't smart enough to back down.

"Leave it alone!?" Sophie jammed her finger into Dean's chest as she repeated the question. "How about because it seems like every time I see you, you have a new scar? Hmm?" She shoved her hands against his chest and shoved him away. "Or all the lies and half-truths? The secrets? The whispers when you think I'm not paying attention?!"

Dean fell back a step when her hands made contact, but he didn't give in and tell Sophie what she wanted to hear. "Yeah, leave it alone. It's none of your business."

Sophie scoffed and shook her head, "It's none of my business? Screw you. You made it my business when you became my friend. Not to mention, did you miss the fact that some guy just attacked us in the middle of a bar?"

To an observer, Dean looked like a rock, not giving anything away. Inside though, he was panicking. How the hell did he stop this before he said too much? Well…the easy answer was to get Sophie to stop talking first. "Well, if I would've known then that you couldn't keep your nose out of other people's business, I probably would have opted out of the whole friends thing. Now I know why everyone you―they just want a minute to go by without you asking them a thousand questions."

…Wrong. It was all wrong. The moment those words flew out of his mouth, Dean felt like throwing up. From the look on Sophie's face, she was sharing that sentiment.

"Wow," she whispered, her eyes welling up for the second time that night.

What was worse: Sophie thinking he was an ass or her continuing to dig into their world?

That didn't even qualify as a question. He would do anything to keep her safe and if tonight was any indication, safe meant as far away from hunting as possible.

"Get in the car and get some sleep. We have a lot of driving to do tomorrow," Dean said coldly. He fought every urge in his body that was screaming at him to grab Sophie and pull her close to him. There was nothing he wanted more than to sooth away the harsh words he had spoken, to beg her to accept his apology, to promise anything to get her to stop looking at him like he just plunged a knife into her stomach.

"Who the hell are you?" she choked out, ignoring the tears that were escaping and tumbling down her face. This wasn't her Dean. The boy that reached out to a girl who couldn't even say her name, that spend weeks patiently explaining how to rebuild an engine―not to fill the silence, but to hopefully get her comfortable enough with him that she would say something. He definitely wasn't the guy who teased her for being excited about the prom and taking forever to get ready, but when faced with the outcome, had become tongue-tied and blushed. He wasn't even the one who had punched Matt.

He was a stranger. From the defiant stance to the hard look in his eyes, he was unrecognizable. Besides his features, Sophie wouldn't be able to connect him to her best friend at all.

"Who I've always been," Dean bit out, "You've just refused to see it."

Mostly said to get Sophie to drop it, it did have a ring of truth—at least to Dean. Outside of Bobby's, he wasn't the same person. He couldn't afford to be. When he was on a hunt with his dad, he put away Dean the joking older brother and friend and became something he didn't even want to contemplate…a shell of himself, a weapon.

"No," Sophie shook her head stubbornly.

"Are you sure you didn't experience temporary blindness from your mom's accident?" Dean asked with a cruel sneer. He threw his arms out wide, "Nice to meet you, I'm Dean Winchester. What you see is what you get."

"Stop it," Sophie pleaded, stomping her foot on the ground slightly, unconsciously imitating a kid. "Stop doing this!"

"There's no big secret, Sophie!" Dean continued despite her pleas. "There's nothing to tell you that is going to satisfy your curiosity. The sooner you understand that, the sooner you can move on."

Dean forced himself to close the distance between them, ignoring that sick feeling again. "You think I'm something I'm not. There's no great mystery," he lifted his hand to brush her hair from her face. "Truth is," his hands drifted down until they were cupping her cheeks, "you're hot. I knew you were the friends first type of girl, so I played along."

Sophie's heart skipped a beat as Dean leaned in, his head tilting towards her until his lips almost touched hers. "I just didn't know it would take so long."

"Go to hell," Sophie whispered back, jerking her head out of his hands and snapping his head to the side with a resounding slap.

Dean worked his mouth, stretching the rapidly reddening skin. "Trust me, I'm al…"

"Trust you? I can barely look at you," Sophie spat.

Dean bit the inside of his cheeks, "I'm sorry you can't accept the truth."

Sophie smiled bitterly, "Oh, I can accept the truth; I just don't think you've given it to me. I think everything you've said in the past five minutes is a bunch of crap! I just can't figure out why you would say those things instead of just being honest."

"Because I can't!" Dean exploded. In an instant, the façade tumbled down and his voice took on a tinge of desperation. "I just…can't."

Never one to know when to back down, Sophie pushed, "Why not?"

"Because you're going to get hurt!" Dean was unable to catch his breath and was forced to take deep heaving ones. "And I won't let that happen!"

Sophie could see that Dean was struggling and even though she felt for him, she was tired of beating around this. "Nothing is going to happen, just let me in."

"No! Because something always happens! And it can't happen to you," Dean nearly growled with his conviction. "If it did…if you were hurt cause of me…" Dean gaze flitted over her face. He frowned in sudden contemplation.

Sophie's eyebrow rose at the instant silence. She was about to question it when Dean stepped in to her again and smoothed over her furrowed brows, even as his remained stubbornly on his forehead.

"What are you doing?" She finally murmured.

Dean shrugged lightly and responded just as quietly, "I have no idea."

Sophie's heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest as Dean threaded his hands through her hair and almost hesitantly pressed his lips against hers.


End file.
